Halo: The Pact
by SCBM
Summary: An egotastic couple declare war - on a god. A jolly Sangheili and a depressed Mgalekgolo must work with an angry man and a quirky woman to try and save the Galaxy from utter destruction. The South Pole has come under attack by hostile eggplants, and only the six unlikeliest 'heroes' can hope to save it. Madness? No. This is the Pact! (Lore friendly or your money back)
1. Chapter 1: It Begins with Three

**It Begins with Three**

On Tuesday morning, just before lunch, the Earth was invaded by aliens. This made a lot of humans very angry, and a lot of aliens very happy.

Earth was located in the unfashionable end of the Galaxy, it was just an insignificant little blue-green planet inhabited by ape-descendents, who thought wearing Rolex watches was quite cool, and the most frequent problem was what was going to be for tea tonight.

However, about a million miles away, cruising in towards the Earth as calm as jetliners, was a fleet of purple bulbous ships. As big as office buildings, as silent as birds. These ships were biding their time in the rays of the Sol star, grouping up and preparing, waiting.

This invasion fleet would overtake tea in terms of problems.

One certain station orbiting one of Jupiter's moons had a young man strapping on his newest watch as he sat at his communications post, ready for another day of enjoying the rotating darkness of space. When he picked up an alien signal from the fleet of ships, he frowned, and sent a simple warning to Earth and its defenders.

 _Don't panic, but you have a whole fleet of Covenant ships closing in on you._

The young man wiped his brow, and took relief knowing that everyone knew that he had done his best to benefit humanity.

This is not his story.

This is a story about how the message would not reach its destination – a General of the defence fleet. It would, in fact, fall into the inbox of one of the most incompetent Captain's of the UNSC, who was on an island in the middle of nowhere below the blue-green planets equator. It is here this story starts – in the middle of nowhere. But like all stories do…

They begin with a message.

 **1**

Another day, another dollar.

 _Actually, I don't get paid for this anymore…_ Eaden chuckled to herself as she stood in the halls of Ram Air Force Base. She was used to being a soldier for free – when it came down to defending your home world in the threat of attack, asking for pay was in her opinion quite silly.

At least her life was a lot more practical.

But at the air base, practicality had gone out for lunch.

Because here, where men and women were _supposed_ to prepare for _war_ , the biggest concern was trying to pass a hasty petition of changing dinner from beans on toast to something more exciting.

Eaden didn't feel very good at seven o'clock on that Tuesday morning. She missed her alarm by half an hour, got up, skulked into the bathroom to freshen up, and was currently skulking to the drop off zone where dropships dropped off goods that needed dropping off.

Passing a water cooler she stopped to drink a large cup of water, and another, and another for good luck. She suspected she was hung over. Why was she hung over? She stood and thought about it. Where did she get drink from in a military airfield? She glimpsed her reflection in a nearby window. She looked late twenties but she felt like forty, tall, dark hair tied into one braid, the general look of tired drunkenness plastered over her face. She was worried her CO might see her like this, but Eaden was nothing if not resourceful.

She didn't know why her yesterday-self got drunk, but knew there must have been a damn good reason to get this hell of a hangover. Whatever. Her legs would take her and sort it all out, she had all the time in the world, right?

That last bit was actually the life motto of a friend of hers, one who blundered through life with the odd habit of getting into as much trouble as he could, but shrugged it off as nothing more than the norm of life. He was her Captain, but he acted like it very rarely – those rare occasions were when he'd poke fun at his lower subordinates. She knew he didn't have any, but he liked to think so.

He struck Eaden, and mostly everyone else, as a bit of an eccentric, but quite harmless, despite his odd habits that even a child would find quite strange. For instance he would often gatecrash parties, get badly drunk and start making fun of anyone at a lower rank then Captain until he got thrown out.

There was also the fact that right now, he was staring out the nearby window as if hypnotised. Eaden, after stopping to observe him, walked up and asked him what he was doing. The Captain stared guiltily for a moment, then relaxed and grinned.

"Just keeping an eye out for the Covenant," he joked, and on most occasions Eaden would either laugh, or keep walking. Or both. But today she stood with him.

"You know," he said. "I hope I don't sound arrogant when I say that I am the best man in the whole world."

Eaden lit up a smoke – a big fat cigar. "Break ze record of being the most discharged man on Earth?" she asked. Her German accent is exceptional, although rather generic. It had given her more trouble than she could handle.

"No," he said. Sarcasm didn't register with the Captain unless he really concentrated. His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge. He knew next to nothing about tactics, formations, or how to handle a tough situation with any number of resources. Eaden came to suspect that the main reason why he had such a success at military life was that he never really understood the significance of anything he did. "How are you Eadee? You look worse than usual."

"I need a drink," Eaden said. "You busy?"

"Look like you've had enough," said the Captain. "But let me think... No, I'm free, why?"

"Walk with me." And walk they did. He did not bother asking her and she did not bother saying where they were headed, her legs were doing the work while her head rested.

Days when the two of them were in company usually ended badly – sometimes the Captain flirts with the officers, sometimes Eaden passes round to everyone, offering military-banned substances – they radiate trouble like a disease. It was a damn big surprise there CO hadn't done anything about them yet.

"There's something in the air," the Captain said happily, breathing in one long supply of oxygen through his nose, letting it out with, "I can smell it. It smells old, and sublime, and greasy?"

"We just walked past a trashcan Captain so don't get your hopes up." When Eaden said this, she threw her cigar in it.

She pronounced his title _Kapitan_ , most people couldn't understand a word she was saying, but the Captain told her that you get used to it after a long, _long_ time.

"I feel like I should remember something," the Captain said wistfully. He let out a sigh before continuing. "Something _very_ important. What day is it today?"

"Tuesday," she said in her heavy accent.

"Ah, that explains a lot. I hate Tuesdays, have I told you that before?"

"Every seven days," Up ahead there was clapping, right through a doorway they were heading to.

"It reminds me of-"

 _Oh here we go,_ thought Eaden. They were rapidly closing unconsciously towards the applauding door. Where some microphone-amplified voice was announcing something important.

"-It reminds me of _her_. Of Eileen. Oh…" His nose had suddenly realised his state of mind and made him sniff heavily. "She really was something else."

"Captain," Eaden sighed. "She was a convicted serial killer."

"Yeah but you only saw a husky shell of a murderer, where I saw someone who only wanted to be loved." They had passed unknowingly into the doorway where the applause had abruptly halted. Eaden and the Captain closed in on a wooden podium.

Almost as if it were natural, the Captain stood up to the mess of microphones. The crowd (of all females) looked at him with disgusted puzzlement.

" _And you all_ ," he announced. " _Who came down here to get your damn reports for your damn newspapers full of lousy lies_." His voice echoed into the gaping crowd.

"Uh Captain?" Eaden said, but he ignored her.

" _Sure, you all think I'm some victim who was cruelly tortured by a woman full of heart. Well do any of you understand how a man… can_ hurt inside _?_ "

"Captain this is the rally of the Feminow group, they're not here for you…" Eaden said. And then dozens of white lens flashes snapped away. The Captain nodded, gave a murmured apology, and made way for a woman in a suit, who will speak in his place, and who would talk about how that man who had just broke into her speech is a prime example of today's problems in society.

However the Captain had left before he could cop too much abuse. He was good at getting out of situations quickly, Eaden had deduced after many a trouble the Captain liked to make. She could _vaguely_ understand why he liked to cause ruckus – Earth could get boring sometimes.

Eaden led the Captain to the outdoor strip of the Ram Base, where great green dropships were packing and unpacking and _re_ packing troops, materials, food, ammo and guns in a seemingly random fashion. The people doing all this packing didn't even really know what they were doing either – little machines did most of the lifting, they just had to stand around and look the part.

Out of all the passing ships, there was only one that Eaden deemed important enough for attention. The ramp of the dropship dropped quickly and heavily, leaving a great scar on the tarmac. Out poured enough luggage to fill a tourist airliner, and in the wave of baggage, a male figure vomited out of the ship in a great many 'Oofs!' and 'Ows!' and landed at Eaden and the Captain's feet. He wore a flower shirt with matching cargo shorts. He also wore sandals.

The man picked himself up and grinded his teeth at them. This was the third pea in there pod, so to say. A man who wasn't very tall, slightly shorter than the Captain, but after spending thirty seconds in his company, she liked to think of the phrase 'size doesn't matter' and how this man from the dropship must've invented those words. His height was as short as his temper.

"Gale!" she said. (The way she said this was _Kale_ , but that's insignificant now) The figure named Gale brushed off a bag from his shoulder, as if he had tumbled into a haystack and was covered in grass. Gale never looked quite at ease with himself, in Eaden's opinion. He also looked like a magician, but ever since Gale had gotten up her for that, she had not mentioned it since. "Nice to see you, how was your trip?

"Trip?" the Captain asked. "What? You were gone?"

"I went to England," Gale growled. "For about a week, remember?"

"Huh. So how was it?"

"Too urban for my taste," Gale answered. "You know they say 'pardon' instead of 'what'? I mean, who says pardon anymore?"

Eaden had known Gale for a long time. And she was content with him, but he always had this odd habit of sounding mean no matter who he was talking to or what he was saying. The Captain had mentioned this before, and Gale got up him for doing so.

The Captain nodded. "You're right, pardon is totally debunked."

"Excuse me," Eaden interrupted. "Pardon is bunk nowadays."

"Doesn't bunk mean bad?" the Captain said. "I mean, just saying it sounds bad… _Bunk_ , see?"

"No no," she replied. "you have to debunk something bunk."

"Huh?" Gale said.

"Er," the Captain said.

" _Cher cuzzies! I have a mussage for you's!"_

The new voice was from a tall muscled-up local who ran like Hulk's younger cousin. This man had black short hair and a big grin on his big face. This brutish man looked like one of those short-tempered Mgalekgolo aliens.

The Captain, being an officer and all, thought he was the 'cuzzie' responsible for the 'mussage'. He stood forward and pointed to the messenger.

"Speak, Corporal!"

"Aw yeah bru, just wanted to till ya that your commanding ifficer is lucking for you's."

"Lucking for us?"

"Yeah bru, she'll be right ay? You butter git a move on though, or she'll have all our skulls. Heehee!"

"Thank you Corporal, you may go now."

"Sweet as," said the Corporal. "Later!" And the three were left alone. Overhead a plane flew past, covering them momentarily in a shadow.

"I didn't understand a word he just said," the Captain told them.

"That's because you're an idiot." Gale said in a calm matter-of-fact tone.

"Hey who're you calling an idiot?"

Suddenly Eaden, who rubbed her temples off to the side of them, understood why she drank so much yesterday.

 **2**

The Captain was _fairly_ positive that Gale didn't hate him. It was just sort of that friendly-but-profanity-induced banter. Like the way a bartender would speak to a regular. Or how two old timers meet after a long absence.

It was probably the only way to let out all the stress that a war with not one, not two, but around about seven alien species gave you. The Covenant Empire had declared war on humanity about twenty eight years ago, and the reason for all this fighting was neither important nor known by many.

But if anyone knew that a fat militiaman had pissed off an Unggoy by calling it a 'pig eyes' on a distant world, well, let's just say that even the most hot-headed aliens would stop and think, _is this all worth it?_

For you see, the Empire were like the Crusades on Earth, or like an alien version of Spanish Inquisitions – the Prophets of the Empire just didn't really like humans, and thought they were more dangerous than a colony of rogue and ill-tempered Jiralhanae. Now things went a lot deeper than simply the Prophets not liking humans, but we'll get to that later.

Because right now, the Captain was having breakfast with Gale and Eaden in the mess hall. They were all eating avocado on toast with coconut milk on the sides. Every table immediately near them was empty, and the people nearest-by were doing a very bad job of looking comfortable. Gale asked about this, but the Captain only said that it was because Gale had returned.

The Captain took Gale's soul-stare as a sign of good fellowship.

"Vat did you do in Englant Kale?" Eaden asked between a puff of another cigar. It should be noted for future reference, that she sounded like this to everyone else, but to her own ears, she sounded perfectly understandable.

"Huh?" the Captain asked.

"I was looking at buying a house," Gale said to Eaden.

"Vhy?" she asked. _Why._

"Because my tour's over in a few more weeks, and I need a long, long, long, _long_ break."

"Don't tell me you're retiring," the Captain cried, gulping down his tasteless bread. "I mean, you don't look _that_ old."

"I'm the same age as you, Captain."

"What kind of person _are_ you Gale?"

"I think I'm pretty much like you, only rational… and brighter."

The Captain leant forward a little bit. "We're fighting a war for our species and you're thinking about leaning back on a Lazy Boy in England."

"Cap, not everyone loves war like you do."

Indeed. The Captain, _the_ Captain – adventurer, a horrid at personal relationships, ex-hippy – often thought being in the thick of things was what life was all about. Though no one else understood, it was something he couldn't put into words. His mind couldn't interpret his heart.

The Captain frowned and put an arm around Eaden.

"I most certainly do not take pleasure in war! No, I'm like one of those interstellar credit cards, only I don't give out the cheques. I get results! You got to have initiative. Poise! Without complaint I do my duties and get things done for mankind."

"You three," said a passing officer. "Your CO is waiting for you with breath so bated I thought she was hyperventilating. Get a move on."

"Do we have to?" the Captain asked.

"Yes," the officer said, and walked off.

The Captain sulked. Eaden removed his arm. Gale downed his breakfast and looked at his bright blue Rolex he had bought in England because the cute woman at the store thought it suited him. It did not suit him – not even the flowery attire did – but the Captain held his tongue for now.

"C'mon," Gale said, standing. "Let's go meet her."

"Do we _have_ to?" the Captain repeated.

"This isn't parent-teacher interviews Cap. Besides, I got a feeling it'll all work out for the best. Who knows, she might even forgive you two for that incident back in Africa."

"When was the last time you got a feeling and were right about it?" But Gale would answer this question with a grim stare that said: _When was the last time YOU were ever RIGHT about anything?_

But this particular feeling would only lead to a series of bad calls of feelings that would eventually lead up to the total damnation of what these three would consider the norm of life on an airbase. The results of going to the CO would be in the shattering of a cup, an angry Major, and a bruised elbow. Not to mention a few kilo tonnes of explosive ordinance exchanged between human and alien forces.

It was ten o'clock when the three of them made their way to their Commanding Officer's door. Only a few hours until the Covenant discovered the home planet of their most hated enemy. But the people of Earth only looked up to see the rotating blackness of a starry space.


	2. Chapter 2: One Hit, and One Slip

**A Chance that Hit, and One that Slipped**

 **1**

 _ **BZZT!**_

"Who is it?"

"It's only me," replied the Captain with a voice as smooth as stone.

"Errghh..."

"What was that, Major?"

"Nothing. Come in."

He and Gale and Eaden walked into the office after the door clicked open. Inside was a woman wearing a Major uniform behind a big desk with a black label sat in its middle. It read out MAJOR BARFOLEMUE. There was also a few trophies, a bunch of medals, one huge lamp, and a stack of plaques. These three didn't know this, but the Major had purposely positioned these items, so any visitor could get a good view.

Major Barfolemue was not pleased to see the Captain. She was never pleased. The forty year or so fat and shabby woman had the habit of throwing the occasional marine into the brig if they so much as looked at her the wrong way. Today something had gone seriously wrong with her job. This 'Captain' was being given a special assignment starting today. If _he_ got orders of this importance, then this was proof that the world had finally gone bananas.

To be fair, the world was already enough banana'd as it is. But the Major thought it could get more bananas if this Captain got involved anymore than he already was.

She would be right. But that's unimportant.

"Sit," she ordered, waving at the chairs in front of her desk.

The chairs were so small that the desktop met Eaden's eyelevel. She was the tallest of the three. The Major had to lean slightly just to see Gale, but no one commented on this.

Quite literally, the three of them looked up at the Major.

The Major said nothing. The three of them said nothing. Silence went for a good while, until Eaden sneezed. Whenever Eaden was anxious, she couldn't help but sneeze.

Eaden then quickly whipped out a cigar from her shirt pocket. "Cigar anyone?"

No one answered. She quickly put it away. After a long while, Barfolemue sighed.

"Team," the Major stated. "Team, team, team! I love the word _team_."

From around the massive lamp, the Captain leaned round and smiled at her. "Who doesn't?" he agreed.

The Major leant around the other side of the lamp. "I mean, you're all team players, aren't you?"

"We are _the_ team! I am the Captain of the _best_ team!"

"You're just like the A-team!" the Major said in unusually forced happiness. The lamp continued to interfere with there sight.

"Yes! The A-team! That's us! Ha!"

"Splendid!" said Barfolemue. She smacked the lamp and it smashed to the floor. She motioned behind them. "Why, Yankee Jim over there is the biggest team player I've ever had the honour of being presented with. Isn't that right Jim?"

From the corner of the office lurked forward a seven foot tall human wearing black armour from head to toe. "Uh-huh!" said Jim.

"Was he there the whole time?" the Captain asked. "I'm surprised I didn't smell you Jim."

The Major said: "Did you not notice him on your way in, Captain?"

"Oh, well, I had an eyelash in my eye, so no I didn't."

"Jim here is, as I'm sure you are all aware of, a Spartan. Specifically, a Spartan three. He has killed over three hundred Covenant Split-lips with his bare hands, and has served in over forty missions deemed unwinnable by standard means." The Major frowned. "He's served for years. His life goal is nothing but the protection of our race. So tell me this, _Captain_ , why would _you_ , of all people, deserve to be given any attention from my superiors?"

The Captain brushed a hand over his hair, biting his lip. "Sorry, you lost me a while back. What are you saying?"

"I'm saying…" the Major growled. "Do you have some family member as a UNSC General? Your dad? Cousin maybe?"

"Not that I know of."

The Major turned her attention to Gale. "You?" Gale shook his head.

"If I had a General as a friend I wouldn't be in this godforsaken dump of a-"

"Alright calm down." She faced Eaden. "What about you?" Eaden was equally clueless. The major raised her voice. "To think that you three stooges deserve a promotion is beyond me."

"Promotion?" the Captain questioned. He was beginning to smile.

"Yes. A certain chain of command has been invented under your little mitts Captain. As in you and the German and this little man have been assigned to orbital defence in your own personal Longsword."

Just then she picked up her phone and brought it to ear. "Yes? … I see." She put it down. "Jim? Outside, with me. I won't be long."

The Major stood and left with Jim. Eaden leant over the desk and saw that the phone cord wasn't even connected to the power. But she didn't say anything about it.

"Orbital defence?!" exclaimed the Captain. "Longsword?! As in, the interceptor? Oh boy that's something else, isn't it? Maybe we'll be going on a big space battle or something!"

"Better not be," Gale said in that mean tone that was suspiciously intentional.

"You don't find the idea of piloting a brand-spanking new interceptor right into the thick of things as exciting? Ducking and weaving between asteroids, shooting down Seraph's and bombing carriers. The thrill of the chase? To be a part of something greater?"

"No, I find it stupid and pointless. The same two words I'd use to describe you."

"Is this about that retirement planning? You know you'll get sick of it in a week. A Longsword is and will be, fun."

" _Fun?"_ Gale shouted. "You think putting my life on the line is _fun!?_ Sure, you got nothing to worry about do you Captain? If you die out there you _wouldn't have to pay off your goddamn debt would you_? _That's fun, isn't it_?"

A moment of silence passed. The Captain then said, "You're a bit cross now aren't you?"

Gale folded his arms and stared straight ahead. "No."

"You look cross-"

"I'm not cross, Captain."

"But you've got that vein on your forehead that comes out every time you're cross."

Gale lifted a hand up to his head. "I do?"

"Yeah, it's all wonky and-"

"Don't! Just… don't talk to me anymore."

There was an empty mug on Barfolemue's desk. The Captain took it into his hands and read the words on its side. MALE TEARS.

He laughed.

"What is it?" Eaden asked.

"It's just… do you know what Male Tears means?"

"No. What?"

"Yes, Captain, do tell, I'm all ears to hear what little smartass comment you have for today."

The Major had returned and had said that last bit. And she was not happy. The Captain spun and flung the cup into the wall in fright. It shattered, but the Major didn't seem to react much.

"That was a gift from my friends at the Feminow group." the superior-ranking officer spat. "You know, the one you interrupted this morning?"

"Oh… heh… you see that did you?"

"Half the base saw it! I swear, if I were able, I'd keep you here so you don't give the Covenant an advantage. _Especially_ you, Eaden!"

Eaden was silent. The Major sat down.

"But, like _everyone_ should, I will follow my orders. In hanger nine is your newly delivered Longsword, courtesy of your friend in high places. Corporal's Rucker and Ahanahue here will be your pilots, Captain, and your orders will come to your inbox shortly. Report to the hanger at o-eight hundred hours sharp on the morrow. Get a feel for the ship today, but I swear, if I see a scratch on it…"

"You won't," the Captain said. "I assure you."

"And _I_ assure _you_ that I will find out who the hell thinks you three deserve such praise. Dismissed."

The Captain then said, "Let me get your uh, cup."

"No! Leave it."

"Here we go… one last bit… okay, that's all." The Captain got off of all fours and hit his arm on the desk, bruising it. Barfolemue's label fell off.

"Leave you idiot!"

But Barfolemue would never find out who that certain someone was that had given them a Longsword. The three of them asked amongst themselves if they had any idea who it might be, but were just as clueless. And who this someone was, was pointless to think about. They were thankful nonetheless.

Well, two of them were.

 **2**

Gale felt peckish after the interesting but unwelcome conversation with their CO, and decided to get something to eat on his own. He had stayed back with Barfolemue to ask her if she knew that his time with UNSC was almost up, and she said that yes, she knew.

She then sent him on his way.

He wanted nothing more than to tell himself that she was just giving him a small task before the end, and that he would be on his holiday before you could say "We are being invaded." But deep down, he had a sixth sense telling him that a holiday was the last thing he'd be getting before Life was done with him. His previous intuition of good feelings had gone.

"Ah, Wendy, I'm fascinated."

Wendy, in her stained white apron and crooked paper chef hat that leant off of her dirty hair as if gravity had no say behind the food bar, looked at him with a cocked lip and a stupefied expression.

"What's in the special for lunch?"

"Beans!" she yelled. No one turned to look at her.

"Just beans?"

"Yeah!"

"Can that even _be_ a special? Just… Just beans?"

"I'll get my butcher set if your gonna muck about!"

"I'd like to see you try. You'll probably gain three pounds by the time you come back."

"Hey!" the Captain cried, careening through the hall and stopping dead short of Gale. The floor squeaked in protest as he stopped his run. "Gale! I… Oh hi Wendy. No beans for me please."

Wendy stomped off.

"Gale! I just got an email from the colony of Megaseaworld, they're looking for pilots to transfer for protection! And I hear that almost no one there has seen an alien!"

"Is this another one your 'ideas' for a vacation?"

"Why the bitterness? I got great ideas of fun, don't I?"

"Last time we went to Laserforce and you knocked out a child!"

"It was his fault, he shouldn't have been standing there in the first place!"

"Well whatever. I can't deal with you right now and I'm not interested. I've already sorted out a nice space cruise on a planet I shall not name for the natives sake." Gale walked out of the hall and the Captain was at his side. "Anyway, you're not going anywhere, and neither is Eaden. Not until the money you stole is returned."

"I told you," the Captain said, now suddenly more defensive. "The money was ready to go, it just disappeared!"

"Money doesn't disappear!… Unless you spent it all on that girl Eileen."

"Har-de-har-har. Look, you have to believe me when I say someone else has it! You think I want Barfole-fart to keep me here? In the military?"

"Yes."

"Exactly! I… Wait, you're supposed to say no."

"Look Cap, how long have we known each other?"

He took a moment to consider this. "Oh that'd be a good number of years. Right around the time you started taking anger management classes."

"Why do you think I took them?"

But Gale did not wait for a response. He stormed off down the hall, and the Captain was by his side a second later.

"There's this other thing I got. You'll want to see it."

"Cap I don't want to see another one of those businesses you start up: I'll worry."

"No this is like, code red stuff. I _have_ to show you."

Gale sighed. "Will you leave me alone if I do?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Tell me."

"Come to my office, I'll show you."

"Can't you just tell me now?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Paper thin walls?"

"Whatever. Let's go."

 **3**

Above the Captain's office doorway was a big purple sign reading HAPPY BIRTHDAY! The Captain took a great chunk of key's a dungeon master would gape at from his pocket and went for the door.

"Shit," said Gale. "Is it your birthday?"

"Why would I put up a banner for my own birthday?"

"Dementia."

"It's a surprise for a friend for tomorrow. There's other people to think about instead of yourself, you know?"

"Wont they see the sign? Ruining the surprise?"

The Captain stopped his key work and looked puzzled for a moment. "I didn't think about that."

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be _thrilled_." Gale said, not trying to hide his eye roll.

"Oh, well I'm glad that's all settled," said the Captain. He unlocked the door and walked in. "Come into my humble abode."

If you took a bomb, and detonated it inside the local library, you'd get a pretty similar picture as to what the Captain's abode looked like. In ankle-deep mess, Gale waded his way like a man in a thick swamp towards the far wall where the Captain was sat at his desk typing away at a keyboard. Gale pulled up a great big silver bucket, flipped it, and sat down beside him.

He opened up his inbox, and scrolled up to the most recent date.

"Look at this one." The Captain clicked twice, and up opened a message that would set in motion a series of events that would have unforeseen consequences.

For you see, the transmission from Jupiter's moon had as much direction as a headless chicken. No one really understood why a transmission would be converted into mail form into this particular inbox. But you should not worry about all that – the Captain knew what he was doing.

 _Don't panic, but you have a whole fleet of Covenant ships closing in on you._

There was a moment of silence. The two of them exchanged a disgusted look. Then Gale burst out laughing.

"Nice one," said Gale. "The Covenant don't even know of Earth's existence. Damn prankers, am I right?"

"No Gale, this is gen-u-ine, look, it's from Io station. The code number checks out, and I've traced it back to Jupiter. Read it!"

And Gale read with a face going from joy to horror. It was genuine all right. Gale even got a military code book just to verify the codes three times over. Gale didn't want to believe a lot of things, but he could not deny this.

"Why did you think Megaseaworld was more important than _this_?" Gale yelled.

"Shhh!"

"We have to tell someone!"

"Who?"

"Well… Barfolemue!"

"Right!"

The Captain forwarded the message to the Major. A minute later, they got a message just like this:

 _I swear to god if you abuse my inbox because you got a brand new Longsword from a UNSC General I will punch your mouth so hard you'll shit teeth for a week. Don't think you're gonna get away with this, Captain. You are under MY command, and you are MY property. I've signed the papers, your ass is mine._

"Your ass is mine?" the Captain said. "Do you think she likes me?"

"Yes Cap, she likes you as much as I do."

"Do you think she believes the warning?"

Gale met the Captain's gaze. "No. No she does not. If you hadn't pissed her off so much she might have, but not anymore!"

Sure, it would only be a few hours before the alarms burst into ear-splitting warnings that an alien fleet was closing in, but a few hours could've made all the difference despite being a seemingly short amount of time. They were about to get up and spread the word, when Yankee Jim the Spartan stepped into the doorway. Jim didn't look very happy, even as his face was concealed.

The Captain stood quickly. "Jim? What're you doing here?"

"Well well, Captain, checking your mail? Catalogues for Homosexuals don't come out today you know."

"What do you want?"

"Oh," Jim strolled over and leant over to view the mail from Jupiter. There was a slight twitch in his posture, but Gale soon forgot about it. "just came to check on my pals. You are my pal, aren't you Captain?"

"Far from it, Yankee."

"Pity. You know I can make a valuable ally." Jim put a hand on the mouse, and moved towards the _delete_ button. "You might need one in case you get into trouble."

"Trouble? Ha! I wouldn't need your help if there was a gun to my head. Hey – what're you doing?"

The message from Jupiter was deleted. Gale stood and said (angrily) "You idiot! You just-"

"Just what, Gale? Just got rid of some worthless junk, didn't I? Am I right?"

Gale was no fool. He knew when he was out of his depths and right now – he was in the deep end. Even with two of them, a Spartan wouldn't have trouble 'convincing' them to stand down. Besides, Barfolemue would hate to have her toy being disobeyed.

And of course Jim was tall, Gale was not.

"Of course, Sir."

"Good. Before you say anything Captain know this: You don't want to make an enemy of me. Keep your mouths zipped and we'll get along just fine. Good day."

Shoulder checking the Captain, Jim left the room. The Captain sat down. "I don't know about you, but I think we could've taken him. What was that all about anyway?"

"I don't know. But I _do_ know that I don't like it one bit."

The Captain's last words before he closed the door was: "They're probably like a million miles away anyway, no need to worry."

 **4**

And roughly about a million miles away from the Ram Air Force Base, Zun Tak, currently making her way to the title of Shipmistress, walked across a great pure energy walkway, her black and gold armour flashing in the Sol star.

Sol the unheard of; Sol the home of the humans; Sol the now number one most hated place in the Covenant empire, now overtaking the Unngoy home world.

Zun walked confidently across the beam of light. It would be a fair while before she reached her destination, because ceremonies of the Covenant always had to show very pretty but annoyingly wide stretches of walking.

She walked on.

Below her was a sea of her own birdiloid race, called the Kig-Yar, and they cheered her on, waving their spindly arms and shaking their ugly shrunken freakish heads. Zun was a T'vaon – a sub species of Kig-Yar – and she wasn't being arrogant when she really _was_ better looking than the rest of her race.

Zun was on her way from the living quarters to the bridge of a Covenant assault carrier. Today would be the great day of Zun's culmination, she would get to command her very own carrier. It was for today's sake that she had first decided to become a Shipmistress, a decision that had sent waves of astonishment across the Fleet of Sacred Consecration – Zun Tak? _The_ Zun Tak? _Shipmistress_?

Many thought that if _she_ could become Shipmistress, then anyone could.

Zun? Born to the most poorest family of cutthroats and had limited respect to the Journey? THAT Zun? She can't be a Shipmistress! Are you insane?

No one was insane. Zun grinned and picked up the pace.

Today was the day; today was the day the Covenant and the Prophet of Regret would find out what she was up to. Today was what Zun Tak's Shipmistress _Journey_ was all about. Today was her forty first birthday, but that was coincidence. Today was _also_ the day they invaded the home world of the Covenants most hated enemy, but again, that was just another coincidence.

Zun smiled quietly to herself at what an exciting day it was going to be. Her black feathers near her neck shone off Sol's light, a hundred different colours hiding in her quill.

"Hey," she crooned to herself. "you did it, girl. You finally did _it_."

The bridge up ahead was crescent shaped, and fairly high above the sea of the various species of the Empire. On the bridge was the reception committee.

It consisted of most of the leaders of the _Day of Jubilation_ , including Regret – the Prophet, the current Sangheilian Shipmaster, and a few more researchers and engineers and honorguards of varying species. Although the reptiloid Sangheili were prominent in the Shipmasters presence.

There was a wave of immense excitement thrilling through all of them. Together they had destroyed many a human vessels, and the Shipmaster – who was quite old – knew perfectly well that the youthful T'vaoan would lead them to glory. (The Kig-Yar's definition of Youthful is one of the most intriguing bits of knowledge any human could find) It might not even matter that the Shipmaster's didn't really _have_ much power, no, all that went to Prophet Regret, the Shipmasters were simply ways of bossing around others and getting things done.

Zun was amazing at her job.

The crowd gasped at Zun's armour as it dazzled away in Sol's light, the masterful craftsmanship flashed and shone as Zun stood on the balcony bridge and lifted her arms up.

It could have covered her whole body if she so wanted, but her forearms and head were revealed to them all, her well groomed and well kept body only adding to the stunning effect she had on the breathless crowd.

Zun loved effect, it was what she was best at.

She waited for the applause and the yelling to die down, then lifted a hand in greeting.

"Hello!" she said.

One of her personal guards came up to her, murmuring about her ceremony. She ignored him. She knew what to say, she knew what to do. Today was her day.

"Hello everyone!" she said.

Almost everyone beamed at her. She singled out Cesha from the crowd. Cesha was a pale blue Sangheilian in dark blue and black armour and had been Zun's friend ever since joining Regret's fleet. Cesha was lean and tall, and her blazing purple slitted eyes locked on to Zun's own yellow ones, and both their faces turned into smiles. Cesha wasn't really anyone in particular, save for that fact that she was one of only a handful of other female Sangheili in the entire Covenant Empire that was on the front lines of war.

Also the fact should be said that Cesha was the complete opposite of what her species standards were.

"Hey," she said to her.

Cesha flashed her a quick grin.

The Prophet of Regret was old, slumped in a floating chair a foot above the ground, yet he could still hold himself high to support the crown placed on his head. His whole body was wrapped up in ancient and holy garments rumoured to be linked to the ancient Forerunner civilisation from the old times. Zun turned to him and bowed.

"Rise my child," Regret said in a withering yet strong voice. And rise Zun did.

"My children!" Regret boomed, his chair rotating to the crowd, his bony left hand controlling his vehicle (It was the Covenant's Lazy-boy equivalent). "Our most holiest of hours is upon us! Our Journey is nearly completed, and we have discovered – by the gods grace – the home world of the… _disgusting_ humans!"

Roars of appraise. Regret continued after it died down.

"We must prepare for the invasion! And we must prepare now! Cleanse these abominations, and take back what is rightfully ours!"

A wave of cheering and eagerness came and went.

"You've all worked so hard for so long. The Forerunners smile down on our great progress. And it is all thanks to you. You, and our wonderful Shipmaster Zafumai: our most cunning commander."

The Sangheilian in turn lifted his arms and roared.

Zun encouraged the crowd to applaud.

"But even our most oldest and wisest must make way for new blood. So, in our time of need, what with the humans so close to annihilation…"

Zun's heart went mental. She cried up a storm and her species yelled with her at the tops of their lungs. She was so uplifted by her ceremony that she missed a few of Regret's words and caught only the ending.

"… but there is no greater commander then Zafumai. He and I will lead all of you to the total end of the Demons and Imps and there human creators!"

Today was Zun's culmination; today was also the day Zun was absolutely humiliated. Slowly, awkwardly, she let her hands sink to her sides.

 **5**

"Sun of an Unggoy!" Zun cried, pacing nervously back in forth in her cabin on the _Day of Jubilation_.

Since the ship was indeed built from a planet far away from Earth, and a mobile home to alien species, it was only natural that almost every inanimate object in the cabin was floating a few inches off the ground. Zun's cabin was oblong, but the two long walls were raked round in a slight parallel curve, and all the angles and corners were contoured into excitingly chunky shapes. The cabin looked excitingly purposeful, as the concave wall was set with banks of computers. Most of them did nothing, but Zun liked the way they brightened up the room. Besides, if all she had was a floating bed, a few chairs and a desk, she would have gotten awfully miserable.

In one corner a Mgalekgolo sat humped, its gleaming silver armoured head slumped over its big body. Even though the armour was new, various parts of it didn't quite fit properly to the hundreds of little worm-like creatures that made up the Mgalekgolo body.

Cesha sat in a hovering chair, twiddling one of her energy blades in her hands. She was singing a tune, " _In the eye of the storm is a golden skyyy…"_

"Who does Regret think he is?!" Zun burst out in annoyance.

Cesha spun her chair around to face her and shrugged.

"A Prophet of the New Age."

"Yeah, that's nice and all Cesha," Zun complained. "but here we are, a couple of heretical-wannabe's, and just before we get our own carrier, he goes and cancels the ceremony! I feel like such an idiot."

She pictured herself, smirking and raising her arms on that walkway. Embarrassing.

"Oh come now, it wasn't _that_ bad," said Cesha. "I mean, all you did was boast as if _you_ were a Prophet in front of thousands. Totally did _not_ ruin your image."

"Your optimism is not welcome."

"Oh, I'm sorry – I shouldn't be mean," Cesha relented, patting Zun's upper arm. "I mean, look on the bright side. You're still a Champion, and we still got the Seraph. Help me out Ogato."

In the corner, the Mgalekgolo's head swung up sharply. It pulled itself up to its feet as if it weighed more than the ship did, and made a heroic effort to cross the room. It stopped before Zun and stared through her feet.

"What's the point? I'm too depressed to help, and I never get any help myself."

"By the Forerunners," muttered Zun, and slumped into a seat.

In a bright and compassionate way, Cesha stood and brought Ogato into a one-way hug and said, "At least you have your health."

"Health," Ogato moaned. "Two of me died the other day due to too much sunlight exposure. Don't talk to me about health."

"Maybe you can go and do some last checks on the Seraph, Ogato. Take your mind off of things."

"I have a few hundred minds. It won't work."

"Ogato!" warned Zun.

"Fine." Ogato said. "But we checked it a few units ago. It's horribly dull doing checks on something that works properly."

Zun leapt out of her chair.

"Just go and check it will you?" she shouted.

"All right," Ogato droned. "I'll do it."

"Good… thank you…"

With his perfectly circular green eyes, Ogato lifted himself up to look at Zun.

"I'm not getting you down am I?"

"No," Zun said firmly. "Regret is. Not you."

"I wouldn't want to get you down."

"Its fine Ogato," Cesha lilted "really... really fine."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all," Zun crooned.

"I won't enjoy it." said Ogato. And with a hopeless turn of its heel, it lugged itself out of the room. With a click, the door closed behind it.

"You're too hard on him sometimes Zun."

"I know, but I don't know if I can stand being in a Seraph with him when we invade Earth. He'll either bore me, or the humans, to death."


	3. Chapter 3: Orbital Tussles

**Orbital Tussles**

 **1**

Despite being a Captain for years, playing by the rules proved to be the least efficient course of action when it came to getting things done. Right now, he had to warn the planet of an incoming invasion. Screw Jim and whatever his little plot was.

Gale, being on the complete opposite side of this _– that old chestnut_ – thought that climbing atop a table in the mess hall and shouting out 'We are being invaded!' was quite a stupid idea.

But the Captain did it anyway.

Once he had yelled this, someone in the far corner coughed, Wendy behind the bar yelled that she'd get her butcher set if he didn't get down, and Eaden sneezed. These three things happened in long paused intervals, and that would have been all if Yankee Jim hadn't walked into the room a second later.

Jim and the Captain went way back. Because there history is so poor, it isn't worth the time to explain why they hated each other so. But the earliest possible recollection of past days was when there was a single opening spot for a team composed of Spartans, and it was either Jim or the Captain who would fill it.

Obviously, Jim had gotten it, and the Captain was left to be reassigned to a squad of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers which would eventually all complain so much about their newest member that they either went AWOL or purposely disobeyed orders to avoid him and discharge themselves.

Something was off about him, they would say. Maybe it was the way he acted in the most precarious situations, maybe it was something to do with the way he always _almost_ looked like on the verge of snapping.

Maybe it was the way he smiled at you and made your eyes water up.

By the scruff of his neck, Jim seized the Captain and lifted him up a few inches off the ground. The polarized visor of Jim's helmet connected with the Captains forehead. Jim growled: "I told you to keep quiet."

 _This guy's strong as,_ the Captain thought, keeping his worries within him when saying: "What're you going to do Yankee Jim, play me a jolly little kazoo till I die? "

"No, I'm gonna smash your teeth in so you can't flap your mouth anymore, _then_ I'm gonna shoot you."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just shoot me first? Rather than leave it to last?"

"Well I… I want to make it agonizing. And painful!"

"But isn't being shot pretty painful?"

"Uh… well I guess…"

Gale entered the conversation. "It'll save a lot of time and effort if you think about it."

"Er, I don't… B-But I want to hurt him for speaking!"

Eaden also joined in. "Believe me Jim, it won't work."

"And why is that?"

The Captain said, "Because there's three of us!" before kicking a home run between Jim's legs. Jim howled, and so did the Captain. The three of them pounced onto Jim quickly, and tried desperately to restrain the human-turned-monster from doing anything more than struggling. The three of them looked like kids fighting back the school bully. Gale had seized Jim's arms, Eaden his legs, and the Captain was smashing his fist into his helmet. (He broke a knuckle at this point, and he was gritting his teeth hard. He would not mention this, but it hurt bad.)

But before this display of human cooperation could continue, Major Barfolemue quite literally kicked the door in, and this caused all four of them to stop and stare at her, frozen in either mid-kick or mid-punch.

The Major picked up her least favourite person, and shoved him into the nearby wall.

"What's that sign say Captain?"

Half of his face was squashed up against the cold metal, he mumbled: "No littering."

She moved him slightly up the wall.

"What's _that_ sign say?"

"No fighting."

"And what does that mean?"

"… No fighting?"

"That's right." She released him and turned to the other three – they were dusting themselves off. "This is a military installation – we don't cause aggression here!"

Even Jim looked a bit sheepish.

"I've gotten a lot of complaints about you four, yes Jim I said _four_. Things like slacking off, smoking grass, _drinking!_ "

Eaden tried to suppress a sneeze.

"If any of you want to leave…"

"We kiss your ass," mumbled Gale to no one in general aside from the Major.

"What was that Gale?"

"Nothing ma'am."

"Hm. Well in that case, I say you all-"

The Base's AI computer came to life – it sounded like an old music box being wound up – and through a hundred speakers through a hundred corners of Ram Air Force Base came a message that should've been said quite erratically, but was instead spoken by a jolly woman.

" _Attention all personnel, do not panic, but we currently have a whole bunch of Covenant ships closing in towards Earth – this is not a drill. Assume combat protocols – this is not a drill._ "

"You know," said the Captain. "it probably is just a drill."

" _I just said that it wasn't a drill… TWICE!_ "

Jim was breathing so hard his helmet could not hide it. "Oh… th-they found us? Oh god…"

" _Don't panic!"_ offered the computer.

"Don't panic," ordered the Major. "Jim, come with me. You three get to your Longsword on the double! Move it!"

Alarms started to split the ears of every human in a two mile radius. The three of them raced frantically towards the hangers, bumping and being bumped _into_ others who ran about in crazed frenzies. A base of headless chickens is a good summary.

When they emerged into the outside, it clearly was no drill. Carriers and countless other smaller ships were already ascending above the clouds – blocking out the sun every few moments. They had no time to gape, as Gale edged them on in a hurry.

There Longsword looked like a perfectly conventional (if not a bit weird and unique outer hull) fight/bomber starship except that it was perfectly clean because it was so new. When they ascended the ramp and observed the interior, they saw it was so new that not even the seats had their plastic wrappings taken off yet. Whoever had delivered this had made sure there was extra furniture, extra storage, fridges, and food, there was lots of that set on plates on tables. Also the floor was almost entirely covered in red carpet that was patterned with intricate little patterns that looked almost alien. The whole Longsword was about the size of a small hotel flat, it _felt_ like a small hotel flat, only this one packed enough armament to destroy a town.

There were three crew stations along the left side of the main corridor – each one holding a bed, desk, and lockers. Each one was labelled with their full names. While Gale and Eaden rushed to their respective rooms to gear up, the Captain entered his designated quarters simply because he had to sate his curiosity before defending the planet.

In his locker was a full set of onyx ODST armour painted with one long white stripe that went from one hand to the other like some snowy scar. Hanging next to it was his favoured weapon – a shotgun – and a handy amount of ammo.

Naturally, he should wonder how on Earth someone knew his most preferred weapon of choice, _and_ had a duplicate set of armour that was his exact size, but his brain was not natural. Before he knew it Gale called for him from the cockpit.

"Just a moment!" he called back, and suited up. It was a perfect fit. He had little reason to dress in full combat gear when inside an interceptor, but if they were ever destroyed, or were forced to eject in space, the ODST armour would keep him alive a lot longer than the standard pilot armour would. Plus it was outfitted with two tiny engines in the soles of his feet, so he could boost himself into a passing ship like it was some taxi.

And, he looked and felt pretty cool in it anyway. He'd rather die like this than wearing a skin-tight suit.

He checked himself in a nearby mirror, nodded, clicked his helmet on, and went to the cockpit. Gale and Eaden were wearing slimmer flight suits that would have been environmentally sealed if their blue-visored helmets were on. There suits looked slightly like standard marine gear but not quite. They were seated in two seats facing the front window which showed the scrambling UNSC forces running about the runways.

"Switch to comms," said Gale, flicking the control panel on his armoured chest and donning his helmet. Eaden copied him, and the Captain did something he thought looked similar.

There was two final _**SSSSHK**_ 's, and they were all environmentally sealed. They all felt quite cosy.

"All right," said the captain. He put one hand on each headrest of the two pilot chairs. "What do we do now?"

"I thought _you_ vould know of all people," said Eaden.

"Clearly you don't meet many 'people'," said Gale.

They stared at the Captain.

"Don't look at me! I didn't expect to be invaded. Does this ship have a Computer? Why don't we ask it? Computer!"

The Computer AI that controlled a big bunch of the ship powered up and entered their ears.

" _Hello there!_ " it said brightly.

"Oh no," said Gale. He already began to loathe it – as he did with most AI.

The computer continued so cheerily and brash that it might have been selling cookies. " _I am here to help with any and every problem you might have._ "

"Yeah yeah," said the Captain. "Where do we head off now that we're being invaded?"

" _Well that_ is _a big problem isn't it?"_ it chattered. _"Please, head on up to Cairo Station, reports coming in say that it's quite a big old mess and the Orbital Stations are under fire!"_

"Well let's get going, yeah?"

The Captain tapped irritably at a control panel. Eaden quietly removed his hand before he tapped anything important. Whatever the Captain's qualities might include – vanity, bombastic – he was inept at mechanics and could quite easily crash the ship even though it was landed.

"Captain," she said patiently. "you should take a seat, at least for the liftoff."

"You kidding me? Liftoff is the best part. Go ahead, I'll be fine."

"Hold on," Gale said, pointing forward. "Why is there a perfectly square bit of dirt on the window?"

The Captain leaned in between the plastic-covered pilot seats and peered at the dirt. It looked a bit like paint, and it wasn't fully square. In its centre were two very tiny letters he read out.

 _R.S._

"I don't suppose that's the guy who gave this ship to us?" Eaden pointed out. Gale frowned.

"The whole ship is spotless, and he had to go and mark the front window."

"Or she," the Captain said.

"Whoever, it doesn't matter, we have a planet to defend."

"Try not to hit the signalman Gale."

"I won't."

 **2**

Being a part of a warrior family meant that Cesha was brought up knowing you must face your problems head on without personal opinions interfering with any given situation, but sometimes she couldn't help it.

For example when she was in her final stretches of being trained for piloting, she had expressed her interest in studying and archiving data from many worlds so that her people could get a broader picture of a Galaxy that wasn't completely ruled by honour and old traditions, like her home planet – Sangheilios.

Not only did her family somewhat despise her for becoming a pilot – ' _Be IN the fight, not OVER it, Cesha!_ – but talking about observing the world brought the Rolukamai house great distaste for _her_ specifically.

But since her skills with blade and ship were exceptional, she was kept in the fight. Some liked to call her a heretic, for she expressed her interest in the humans quite regularly. _Say what you will_ , she thought to herself with her go-to-hell smirk, _I'm the one whose dropping you into battle! When you land in the water don't expect a pick up anytime soon!_

It was considered the worst punishment to be despised by your own family, and that you should do everything in your power to bring your house honour and glory, but where was the harm in having a little fun every now and then?

Well, maybe a bit more frequently than that. Blatantly giving out your opinions was dangerous, but it helped brighten up the long interstellar-jump days when all you really had to occupy yourself was cleaning your weapon and armour, and talking to the most down Mgalekgolo just wasn't in her opinion, fun.

But now that a planet filled with aliens was in sight, she supposed this definitely brightened up the day.

"Ogato!" she called when she finally arrived at their own Seraph – the giant tear-drop shaped ship was whirring into life as they spoke. "How's it going you big hunk of worms?"

"Awfully," he moaned, he had just put in place a big purple panel on one of the canons. "I fixed the perfectly fine ship - I didn't enjoy it."

"I can tell," she said. Ogato slumped against the Seraph, one of his arms had been turned into a canon, and any other Mgalekgolo would've been glad to have a weapon of such devastation. "So how's the Seraph?"

"Reactor's working – as expected." Ogato droned. "Systems are working – as expected. Weapons are fully functional… as expected…"

Cesha patiently waited.

"Engines at max – as expected. All those pretty lights are working fine. Everything's fine… Like I said so. Oh well, it's not like anyone listens to me anyway…"

Cesha's head lolled. _Not bright enough,_ she thought.

"As I expected the Seraph is ready to be blown into tiny pieces by the first barrage of weapons. Also I… Cesha? Are you listening to me?"

"Huh? Yeah, of course I am."

"You don't care do you? I don't either."

She couldn't help but smile at Ogato. Before he had (drawled) walked into her life Cesha hadn't the slightest interest in dealing with all those little worms that could do naught but wriggle around on the floor unless there was a few hundred of them. But then this big bunch of joy had decided that its best cause of action was to help command ships in space warfare. Cesha – no matter how hard she tried – could not pry open as to what made Ogato so miserable. She heard rumours that Ogato once temporarily commanded a carrier, but he would not talk about it.

"I suppose you're ready to obliterate humans?" he asked (Cesha liked to think it was a 'he', for his rumbling voice was low, but Ogato had not tried to correct her. Maybe all those little worms were fifty fifty?)

She tried to reaffirm her hatred for humans and there heretical ways – but she was not blinded by pure rage and anger. At least they had some honour, unlike _certain_ other races. _Jiralhanae_ , she thought for no reason. "I never thought we'd find the home world of humans. How do you think we found it?"

"I don't care." He somehow slunk lower.

"This changes things."

" _This changes things,_ " mimicked Ogato perfectly. "Just when you think life can't get any worse it suddenly does."

"Cheer up Ogato, I'm sure it'll be okay. All we have to do is… Well, I don't actually know, but I'm sure there's something!"

Ogato sighed.

There were a few thumps against the metallic ground behind them followed by a chuckle. Ogato didn't react but Cesha did. She turned and looked up to see a tall, beefy, brutish Jiralhanae. It brought her a smirk as she was only thinking of this Chieftain not a few seconds ago – all stink and no glory was her favourite quote.

"What are you smiling at wench?" the monster growled. Cesha pulled away her smirk.

"Nothing."

"No no, you were laughing at me, Cesha."

"You're as thick as your beard, Rirsisisis."

Rirsisisis – the overgrown gorilla wearing bright red power armour – mumbled something along the lines of _'bitch'_ and stepped forward. Cesha held her ground, she would not be intimidated by such a thing.

"Why are you here in the hanger? Shouldn't you be tending to the children? Ha!"

"Shouldn't you be tending to your stench? You smell like an Unngoy."

"W-What did you just say?! You take that back!"

"YOU take it back!"

Zun jumped and tapped Rirsisisis on the shoulder. Rirsisisis whirled around and looked left and right, spotting no one. "Down here!" she yelled, and he looked down.

"And what do you want, little bird? Need someone to feed you some-YOWW!"

Rirsisisis knelt to the floor.

"Did you get him?" Cesha asked over his shoulder.

"Yes, I got them." Zun nodded.

( _It should be noted that this happened at the exact same time Jim fought the Captain and the others on Earth, how some things can be so convenient!_ )

Rirsisisis drew back his fist, but at the sound of a voice, he and Zun and Cesha sunk to their knees and bowed their heads.

"Stop this at once!" called Regret. The Prophet and his honour guards walked (or in Regret's case, floated) towards them.

Cesha, not of her own accord, began to quiver under the Prophet's presence. It was told that Prophet's can see into your mind and tell of your faith, but she had dismissed this long ago, for wouldn't she and Zun and Ogato be executed by now? But it mattered not – Regret was the face of the military, and he'd only wave his hand and have them all killed if he simply felt like it.

She shivered when she remembered witnessing two Jiralhanae going at each other's throats in the middle of one of Regret's speeches. Those two were butchered, and then eaten by other Jiralhanae by Regret's orders.

"Surely none of you have time for such pointless bickering, isn't that right Dersisis?"

"Its Rirsisisis… high Prophet," mumbled Rirsisisis.

One of the Prophet's honour guards jabbed him with an energy spear. He grunted but did not try to fight back.

Regret ignored him, and floated towards Cesha, pausing right in front of her. She kept her head low.

"Look at me," he whispered.

She slowly raised her head but did not make eye contact.

" _Look at me._ "

She looked at him.

"Any other Sangheilian would be thrilled to see me. Yet when I look at you I see only fear. Tell me, what is it you're so afraid of?"

She looked into those black, pit-like eyes. She at first answered with a crack in her tone, but coughed and spoke louder. "You."

His brown sagging face turned into a smile. "Correct choice."

She felt his hot breath on her face as he studied her. She'd rather be down on the human world than here in the hanger.

But before she could no longer bare Regret's undying gaze, he floated off to Zun. "I hope you do not mind we delay your ascension, Zun. Your Journey will come in time."

Zun nodded, but Cesha noticed a hidden flare in her eyes – she did not look Regret in the eyes directly. Zun was quite reckless, and Cesha begged to the gods that she keep her cool for just a little while longer.

But there was no slip on Zun's part. Regret _seemed_ satisfied, and hovered back to his guards.

"Rermisis, come with me." Rirsisisis stood and went to his side. "Zun, take your Seraph and divert as much attention away from my carrier as possible."

"Understood."

"Good, get to it. And Ogato, stop slumping against all the walls, don't leave marks in my halls again."

Ogato moaned an apology. Regret took this as satisfactory, and left with his honour guards. Rirsisisis screwed his face up at them before leaving as well.

The three of them climbed aboard the Seraph. Inside it was excitingly chunky and well lit with cute little blue fluorescents. They made their way into the modified Seraph and to the cockpit, but not before sealing themselves into their suits and donning helmets with thin, flat eye pieces that seemed to paint themselves onto their heads.

"Ogato," said Zun. "you sealed up?"

From the back of the cabin was a crash – Ogato had fallen over and it might have been on purpose. "You don't have to pretend to care you know," he bitterly responded. "I know perfectly well I'm only just menial source of help to you."

"Ogato, I-"

" 'Help me start up the ship, Ogato' that's what everyone ever says to me. 'Ogato, go and check that pipe there. Ogato can you go and fix that shield?' Here I am, a mind mass bigger than your body and everyone asks me to…"

"Yeah, yeah I know what you mean," Zun sympathised.

"But I'm quite used to meaningless tasks," Ogato moped. "Why, just the other day Zafumai asked me to-"

"Are you sealed in?" Zun repeated a little louder.

"Yes."

"Thank you. We are purple across the board. Cesha, take us out."

The Seraph lifted up, hovered, then joined the fleet's course to Earth.

 **3**

Earth was a well-kept secret, it was one of the last hopes the humans had against the alien Covenant. Gale was under the impression that someone had tipped them off, and he'd love nothing more than to meet whoever this rat was.

Gale was not born on Earth. But that didn't stop him from putting his life for it. He was born on Mars, where most people there didn't give much attention to any other planet. And he knew a fair few of them were Insurrectionists. He never really understood why they would rebel against the UNSC, didn't they know we are at war? Didn't they know Earth is now compromised?

He suspected that they did, but didn't care.

It was too late to ponder on the why's and what's, because as there Longsword was flying up from the lower atmosphere, constantly gaining ground, the Captain had asked the Computer to come back.

" _Hi gang_!" it enthused. " _Wow, this is pretty exciting isn't it_?"

"It is," said the Captain. "Who gave us this ship?"

" _Hmm_." it said, and for a moment it paused. Gale thought it might've had some sort of firewall or something, and it proved him right by saying: " _I'm sorry, R.S. forbid that information from me, for your safety, of course_."

"Ah, okay, thank you."

" _No problem! Is there anymore you wish to know? All I want is to make your days nicer and happier and less problematic…"_

"Shut up," said Gale. "That'll be helpful."

" _Alright_. _If you ever need help…_ "

"Shush!" Gale insisted, flicking two switches on his right.

" _Okay, okay…_ " said the Computer in a hurt tone of voice and closed itself down.

Slowly, the clouds parted and the blue sky went to black. They were presented with what could only be described as pure madness. All of Earth's orbit was cluttered with fighters of both human and alien origin – swarming in and around the big capital-class ships in vain attempts to topple each other. The Captain ordered them to halt as they scan the scene. The Captain was glad he had his helmet on – he didn't think his jaw could go so low.

A moment later a rather large UNSC ship sailed above and behind a similar sized Covenant ship, one great red beam shot through its hull and stretched eternally into the black void beyond Earth. Debris flew, fire engulfed, and the Covenant ship began to sink.

" _Do beg your pardon_ ," said the Computer whirring back into its jolly voice. " _But we have an incoming transmission from Athens Station – it's the one on your left._ "

The Athens was partly on fire and air was seeping out of it. _This is why you avoid space stations_ , Gale thought, but then remembered that he was in a Longsword and dismissed this.

"Patch them through," said the Captain, he was still stood behind and between the pilots – he had fallen over during the ascent and had to sit down, but now he was back.

A moment of silence, than a panicked woman replaced the happy Computer. " _What are you doing just floating there!? What is your designation!_ "

"This is the Captain of… Well, I guess we haven't got a name yet."

"Should ve have one?" Eaden asked.

" _Who was that?_ "

"That was my pilot, Eaden Ahanahue. Gale's here as well."

"Hi," said Gale.

" _Look, I no longer care who you are, we got Covenant trying to board us, get your asses over here and help!"_

"Roger that Athens, we're on our way." The Captain beckoned a finger forward. "Full speed ahead! Let's show them what we can do!"

They soared through the empty part of orbit into the cluster of chaos. As soon as they set forward, a Covenant carrier was destroyed by a nuke in the near distance, and three plasma torpedos whizzed past them and detonated against another station. With that bit of urging, they sped up to Athens.

Though the Captain would never admit this in front of them, he despised being in space. Being a shock trooper and all was quite a useless feet when you're at the mercy of two pilots. But he had faith in them, even if he didn't act like he did. But he did like the Longsword.

Several alien Phantoms were circling Athens menacingly. Some of them were shooting – making holes big enough for them to board – others were fending off other Longsword's and human craft from getting too close.

There was also a number of smaller alien fighter Banshee's patrolling the station, small but nimble, but once they came into range Gale and Eaden wasted no time in manoeuvring around and destroying a handful of them.

The Captain, having not been in a Longsword himself, flew into the left wall of the cabin when they made a sharp bank right. He clumsily stood up and took a seat, double checking that he was strapped in. From his station there was more terminals and statistics blaring out to him – ammo count, damages, the sort of thing he _should_ have been looking at for a while now.

They rotated around Athens, there gatling canon spinning up and delivering a round of ordinance that obliterated an entire dropship that was in the middle of boarding the station. A Banshee tried in vain to put its craft between them and the dropship, but soon met an explosive fate.

"Get a load of that guy!" The Captain pointed.

"Hush," Eaden said fiercely.

The Longsword did a space dance – an orbital equivalent of the Macarena – as it ducked and weaved and turned and spun to avoid an epic amount of plasma fire. Only one singular beam scraped the left wing – but that was nothing.

This was one of the few times Gale enjoyed himself.

 **4**

Zun, Cesha, and Ogato were tracking the Longsword with their eyes, their heads comically moving up and down and left and right to keep it in their vision as it zigzagged across space.

" _We are trying to plant an Antimatter Charge you foolish Sangheilian, take that ship down!_ "

This voice was from a Jiralhanae on board the station we know as Athens. He wasn't very happy. How hard could it be to cover their escape?

Cesha cleared her head with a shake, and said to Zun: "Shall I engage?"

"Do it," Zun confirmed. "But don't let them get behind us. Ogato, hit them with everything we got when they're close."

"I suppose I could do that. You don't sound too interested though."

Zun ignored him. "We'll have to be quick. Let's not underestimate them."

Cesha pushed the Seraph forward at top speed. She couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. This specific ship she hadn't had any good history with. She had seen one once, on a distant planet, and she couldn't even give it the killing blow despite it missing a wing. She had only walked (flew) away from that day because she had three other Seraphs backing her up, but it seemed she and Zun and Ogato would be on their own for this one. She momentarily thought about who could fly a ship like that, but dismissed it – she had a duty to do.

She reached near max speed. The Seraph zipped like a bullet from a few good long miles, to right beside the Athens station.

Cesha slowed to almost a halt, and drifted slowly nearby the Longsword, eyeing the glass which withheld whoever was piloting it. She couldn't help but ponder again.

"No time for second thoughts!" warned Zun. "Full speed!"

 **5**

"Uh guys?" the Captain asked.

The engines screamed as Gale – with the help of Eaden – destroyed another alien vessel and rapidly changed course.

"Guys?"

"Yes Captain?" answered the German.

"There is a – correct me if I'm wrong which I'm not – modified Seraph coming in towards us."

"Modified how?"

"Looks a lot meaner."

The Seraph came to an abrupt halt nearby. The Captain asked what it was doing but no one answered. So the Captain decided to press a button he was vaguely familiar with, and that was the missile button – he only knew this because it said so on the button.

A nearby monitor showing the modified Seraph lingering suddenly acquired a set of crosshairs, and with the Captains help, he started to pin it over the alien craft.

But before he could even think about destroying the Seraph, it had bolted past the left wing and fired a volley of plasma into the back engines. The Longsword shook violently, and the Computer yelped in pain.

"Where'd it go?" Gale said, looking around frantically.

The Captain searched the screens.

"Captain!"

"I'm looking Gale! … It's flying off?"

"We got lucky," Eaden put in. "We're still flyable, but turning will be an issue."

From this point on, according to Eaden, they should no longer turn left lest they risk losing the wing (the Captain asked if they really needed it but got no answer). Gale said this was no problem, and that he was nothing if not adaptable – all they had to do was keep turning right, and they would eventually end up were they were heading.

Despite sustaining damage – and leaving a thin trail of debris behind them – they managed to cause enough damage to the attacking Covenant that the remaining ships began to pull back from Athens.

"Mein Gott…" murmured Eaden.

"What is it?" the Captain asked, a cute little fire erupted in the back corner and he was blowing it out with nothing but his own hands and mouth.

"They're pulling back!" she cried. "We did it!"

"We did?" the Captain asked. "I-I mean… We did! Yeah! … Really?"

" _I don't know whose flying that Longsword, but your one hell of a pilot!"_ came the woman on the Athens voice from the Computer.

" _Pilot's,"_ Eaden corrected.

" _Right, sorry. But you've done it! We… We've won! Oh this is so great! I can tell my kids that It'll all be okay, and when all this is over I can finally donate my blood to that charity back at home. And I can finally go through my surgery to donate my kidney to my sick cousin-"_

Athens was suddenly engulfed in a raging fire storm that quite literally came out of nowhere. Pieces of the station came out in chunks and burnt up in the Earth's atmosphere as they fell. The shock came and went, but the Longsword came out unscathed as it made an observation run by the now vacant spot in space.

"… W-Well," Eaden said. "That uh, is unfortunate."

" _Unfortunate!"_ Gale shouted.

The Captain came up to their seats and gave an impressed whistle.

Eaden pushed a few buttons above her head. Gale asked her what she was doing.

"I think a revenge run is in order. I'm going to find that Seraph."

"I'm with you," said the Captain.

"Hold on," said Gale. "Why are we putting ourselves at even more risk? You both saw the Seraph, this hunk of junk can't keep up with that! Furthermore-!"

"Simple," said Eaden. "It's funny when your vein pops out."

"My vein does _NOT_ pop out!"

" _Gang!_ " the Computer chirped. " _Gang! I don't mean to interrupt, but you've got another transmission coming in. Wow, aren't we the popular ones!_ "

"Just shut up and put them through," Gale snapped. The Longsword went unnoticed in the back-dropped battle.

" _Alright! … … Do you read me? This is Hood."_

"Hood who?" asked the Captain.

"… _Admiral Hood… of the UNSC Home Fleet."_

"Oh… Hi!"

" _I have an assignment for you, if you're not too busy hanging around the remains of Athens."_

"Oh uh, sure thing Admiral."

" _Do you see the Covenant carrier near Cairo?"_

"Cairo, Admiral? They haven't breached orbit yet."

" _Not THAT Cairo, the Station, right ahead of you."_

"Ah."

" _Join up with the other Longsword and follow their lead. On the double."_

Gale and Eaden zipped the ship forward. Cairo station was still intact, but it was far from undamaged. It looked like a small war had been fought both inside and out. But they had no (more) time to dawdle, as they paired up with another Longsword that looked mostly undamaged. Eaden got onto a channel and asked them what they were doing.

" _We're gonna help the Chief!"_ came the other Longsword's pilot's voice. And that was all that they said.

As the Covenant carrier slowly chugged towards the planet, the space between the Longsword's and it suddenly grew empty. Following the other ships lead, they headed straight toward it.

They got orders to fire a barrage at the carrier's hull, and they did just that. There firepower, combined with the other Longsword, made a sizable gaping hole into the gigantic alien craft.

The other Longsword fighter flew off in one direction, and they went another. But just before they departed, they flew by a green clad armoured human flying through space with an alien device in its hands, clutching it like an anchor.

"Am I crazy," said Gale. "Or did I just see the Master Chief riding a very spiky… _thing_ , into the carrier?"

"Guys?" said Eaden.

"You're crazy," said the Captain. "The Master Chief is dead, isn't he? Or am I crazy?"

"Yeah? Well who was _that_ then?"

"Maybe it was Yankee Jim."

"Guys?" repeated Eaden.

"What?" asked Gale.

"You won't have to worry about that revenge trip anymore."

"Why's that?"

"Because they're coming for _us_!"

 **6**

Zun watched intently at the vision screen which showed the _Day of Jubilation_ slowly cruising down onto the alien home world.

The human craft they had fired upon continued to shoot across space, and right toward the cruiser. And with a few missiles and an unseen Antimatter Charge being directed by the Master Chief, the _Day of Jubilation_ was no more.

Zun didn't really know how to feel about this.

She was… _glad_ she wasn't commanding it. But the fact remained that she still wasn't a Shipmistress and the carrier that was close to accepting her had turned into a pile of drifting rubble. All that work… all those people… it cost her dearly.

"Cesha," Zun growled.

In her helmet came: "Zun, please don't be-"

"After that ship," she ordered. "Finish them off… now."

"Very well."

The Seraph did a one-eighty, and put the damaged human craft dead ahead of its sights. Whoever was on that ship was going to pay, Zun was going to make sure about that. They had severely damaged it, how could they even still go ahead and destroy a carrier? Resilient humans. It would only get them so far. They would be dead in a few moments.

But the ship had spotted them, and was currently rushing towards the lower half of the planet at high speed.

"Follow them Cesha!"

"But… there going into orbit. We should stay up here with the fleet."

"I don't know if you saw, but they just destroyed the Jubilation! There soon will be no more fleet!"

"It'll be horrible," groaned Ogato. "Regret is moving to the planet as well, he'll probably die down there. But neither of you care do you?"

"We're going to destroy that ship then link up with Regret," said Zun. "We will _not_ let these humans escape."

"It'll be horrible," repeated Ogato.

"So was watching that display, now let's go – there fancy flying won't save them."

"It might," said Cesha. "But I'm blaming you if we crash!"

So Zun, Cesha and Ogato pursued the Captain, Gale, and Eaden towards Earth – and unknown to any of them, towards there interlocked fates.


	4. Chapter 4: Full Force

**Full Force**

 **1**

Eaden flinched as the sharp crack of plasma skimmed across the Longsword, not because she wasn't used to the noise, but because she _was_. Although it had only been ten minutes or so since they had broken orbit and were sailing over Earth's blue seas, it felt like so much longer, and it had her doubting if all this was even real anymore.

Dogfights had never lasted more than a few minutes at most, and even then, _she_ was always on the pursuing end, not the other way around, like it was now.

She checked her watch.

Seven seconds.

With a heavy sigh she flicked a few buttons to busy herself, then checked a little screen which acted remarkably similar to a rear-view mirror. The Seraph was hot on their tail, but with a few manoeuvres and a bit of luck, the hull would hold until…

Until when? They had lost all radio contact with anyone, and a fuel pump was leaking somewhere at the back, they couldn't fly forever…

There was a high pitch _ding!_

She gasped in excitement, and moved her hands to a small device beside her chair. The devices little door opened, and she took out a plastic bowl filled with a well-smelling substance – she was giggling with glee.

"I don't know how you can eat at a time like this," Gale mumbled next to her, one hand clasped firmly on a joystick, the other whizzing about on a control pad.

"Well, if we're going to die, I'm not dying hungry," she said, slurping and sipping.

"Where'd you even get a microwave from? Actually, don't tell me. Where's the Captain?"

Whilst Gale and Eaden put all they had into getting away from the pursuing Seraph (and only getting a few minutes break as reward) the Captain had found something rather curious, and had wondered out of the cockpit. As if listening the whole while, his voice called out to the pilots.

"Hey! There's a bathroom back here! Hot tub included! Plus little lolly things – I feel like I'm in a five-star hotel!"

"Get back in here," responded Gale. "just what in the hell are we going to do?"

"… Forget my last!" the Captain said after a small but horrendous coughing fit. "They're _not_ lollies!"

The ship shook violently as the aliens ship fired again. Having the floor shake beneath her feet was certainly not pleasant. She put the bowl down with care, but it would fall over in a few moments.

As the expanse of bland blue sea went by beneath them, a feature appeared in the distant horizon. It was long, white, and thin enough that only sharp eyes could spy it from such a distance. "Gale," Eaden said, pointing at it. "Where are we going?"

"The Computer's forcing us there," Gale replied.

" _I'm not forcing you,"_ the Computer sang out suddenly. " _I'm helping us in our dire time. We are being pursued by a Seraph…"_

"Really…" Gale mumbled.

" _Yes. I'm eighty-nine percent positive that fleeing to the Antarctic is the best – and only – cause of action for our wellbeing"_

" _The Antarctic!_ " shouted Gale.

"The Antarctic?" said Eaden.

"Does anyone have a toaster?" the Captain asked as he walked on to the cockpit, and instantly began to wonder why Gale was kicking the Computer, and why Eaden was yelling at it to explain to her, and why there was a smashed bowl on the ground.

He scoffed down the piece of bread he was carrying, put his helmet back on, and walked up to them.

"Hello?" he said.

Gale mashed his hands over the button-littered surfaces that may have had some control over the Computer. He kicked, he swore, he growled. The Computer wouldn't budge – verbally or literally.

"Something wrong?" asked the Captain.

"Something wrong?!" said Gale, giving up on the Computer in favour of out-piloting the thing. "It would be quicker to ask if something was _right_!"

"If you're cross about something…" said the Captain, eying that vein.

"Antarctica!" snapped Eaden. "We're flying to Antarctica!"

The Captain gibbered. "Well… what? Can we please _not_ go there?"

"Can't," she said. "Computer won't let up."

" _Alert. Alert. Seriously, guys. Alert."_ the Computer warned happily.

"Okay. Huh. Well, look, gimme some room, I'll see what I can do.'

At that moment the Captain flung himself over to the terminal that he _thought_ may or may not have had something to do with the Computer's systems. They beeped and buzzed beneath his hands as he flipped , pushed, pulled, and pressed. He was rewarded by a grown of metal, and a combination of a sweet warning by the Computer that sounded like a concerned mother. He brushed his armour and scratched the back of his helmet.

"Well I'm out of ideas," he said. "How long till that ship blows us to bits?"

"Not soon enough," said Gale.

 **2**

"Why're we not gaining on them?" Zun asked.

The human craft was smoking, awkwardly tilting, and still swerving out of the path of their volleys. Why couldn't they just give up already? It would certainly benefit both them and her. She hadn't voiced it, but Regret's fleet didn't look in the best of conditions by the time they broke the planet's orbit, and the clouds concealed the – losing – battle.

"How are you missing so much, Ogato?" she asked.

Naturally, the primitive technology the humans had wielded throughout the war was of little challenge to the Covenants own, so being troubled by a lone fighter had given Zun quite a shock, and made her rather impatient, obviously.

"How are they not dead?" she continued.

"It is the human home world," Cesha pointed out. "better trained, better armed – obviously."

"Do you think…" continued Cesha. "There's a… Demon, flying that thing?"

Zun considered this. No. There couldn't be. Demons fight on the ground, not in the air, but the… ' _skill'_ in this human fighter craft could match up to even the most battle hardened Covenant pilots. They had survived their pursuit for more than a minute – that was the average lifespan of a dogfight with Zun.

She watched the craft soar onwards, occasionally dodging a volley from Ogato. She noticed a white mass they were approaching. A secret base? Worse? She was on an alien world now, there was no telling what could be out here. For all she knew, a dozen more craft were waiting for them, but where was there to go if not forward?

Zun walked quickly to the main controls of the Seraph, sitting before her was an alien plaque of buttons and lights no human would understand. If there _was_ a Demon on board…

"Hmm, if we bring back proof that I… _we_ , killed a Demon, then I think we'll be in Regret's good side, don't you think?"

Cesha, in her seat, shrugged, "Well… I guess so. Doesn't look like we'll catch them anytime soon though."

Zun pressed a few buttons, standing on the tips of her clawed toes to reach the higher ones. Some on the Covenant say that a Sangheilian Minor had mocked Zun about her height, and had woken up with two broken legs – some believe that it was Zun's doing, and whenever the credulous would ask her if this was true, she'd wear her go-to-hell smile and walk away, satisfied.

"There's only one thing we can do…" she said. "Brace for impact."

 **3**

Gale was beginning to think that things might work out, and that his retirement may yet not be in vain.

There was no base in the Antarctic. No nothing, as it always has been. Whoever made this Longsword – this 'R.S.' character – was either an incompetent, or they had an enemy within UNSC. Paranoid thoughts, yes, but Gale could never believe anyone could ever be too cautious.

He had given up fighting the Computer, and was – literally – along for the ride without a way to get off. _Maybe there's a parachute in the back…_ he hopefully thought, _Long as Cap hasn't found it yet…_

"Uh oh," said the Captain. He tapped Gale on the shoulder and pointed at a screen that showed the rear. Where the Seraph was quite a ways behind them, no more than a speck, had now become a giant blob that was closing in fast.

"I think zis means we're gonna be blown up in a few moments," said Eaden.

"How the hell are they going so fast?" Gale asked, jaw threatening to drop.

"I think," answered the Captain. "they must have… NOS or something. Don't you know what this means?"

"We're going to die?"

"Well yes. But-!"

"What are we going to do?" said Eaden. Second by second the ship on the screen grew larger – the round surface of the Seraphs cockpit was aimed right at them – head on.

"We're going to… initiate evasive manoeuvres!" said the Captain in a sudden wave of panic. "Guys! Or er, Computer! Take evasive action!"

" _Er, sorry guys, I got none_ ," said the Computer.

"… or something," Captain said. "… Er…"

" _There's something jamming all my little systems_ ," explained the Computer – brightly. " _But the Covenant ship appears to have taken the 'ramming' action on us. Impact in, oh I don't know, thirty five seconds?_ "

The Captain tried to run in several equally decisive directions simultaneously. "Right!" he said. "Hmm…"

"Do you think you can get any sort of manual control of this thing?" Gale asked Eaden.

"No, you?"

"No."

"I can't either," said the Captain, who felt a little left out at that moment.

"I guessed," said Gale. "Computer! … _Please_ … give as manual control."

" _I would if I could!_ _… Wait! Here's something!"_

A few panels – blank a second ago – opened up to show large banks of controls covered in dust and curled up insect corpses, as well as balls of rolled up rubbish. The Computer knew these things were never used before.

The Captain leapt at the controls – only a few made any sense to him so he pulled those. "Okay, guys," he said. "full thrust, fifteen degrees to port. Or something…"

" _Good luck,"_ chirped the Computer. " _You'll need it. Twenty seconds."_

The ship jerked this way and that, it was more a reward than Gale would've expected. He released a few of them and the ship spun round in a tight arc back the way they had come, right towards the incoming Seraph.

Being the only one out of a seat (again) the Captain was thrown against the walls that bellowed out air cushions for him. His left knee bruised badly, but that would be the last of his worries.

" _Woah! Impact in ten seconds now!"_ said the Computer.

"Turn around!" cried Eaden. "Oh god what have you done Kapitan!?"

The Computer started to sing.

" _I feel so unsure…"_ it whined. _"As I take your hand..."_

Gale screamed at it to shut up, but his voice was lost in the chaotic environment of approaching destruction.

The ship had flattened out upside down in its course towards the Seraph and the Captain was lying on the ceiling, out of reach of the controls.

" _As the music dies…"_ crooned the Computer.

"This is it," said Gale. "We're going to die… _definitely_."

"Stop saying that," the Captain said above him.

"But we are aren't we?"

"Yeah."

"… _something in your eyes… -Four seconds to impact-… What calls to mind…"_ sang the AI.

A thought struck the Captain. He struggled to his feet.

"Does anyone know if we're over land?" he said.

"… _I know you're not a fool. God bless you all."_

"I said,"yelled the Captain. "Does anyone know if-"

The next thing to happen was a thunderous rage of explosion and light. As if to provide a sort of clarity, they were indeed over land.

 **4**

And the next thing to happen at that moment was the Longsword and the Seraph continuing on the journey to ramming at a speed so obscure, that no one – be that human or alien – would hope to survive without at least one limb being severed. But of course, every single person aboard those ships were alive and well, with only minor injuries that would heal in a matter of minutes. There was no onlookers to this epic display of contact, except for a lone penguin who had been passing by and had stopped to watch the show. The penguin was stood directly below the spot the ships had hit each other, and had not survived when fifteen tones of steel had landed on its frail body. The only moral to pull from that bit of information, is that you should never crash over the Antarctic lest you kill an innocent mother penguin, but sometimes its unavoidable.

However, the penguin had gone out watching a truly magnificent show.

Buried in several feet of snow and steel and alloy, roughly two minutes after the clash of ships, Zun was starting to wake up from a – rather unusual – restful sleep. She couldn't tell if her eyes were open or not, but she could tell she was alive by the howling wind and the crackling of flames nearby. And the cold. By the Forerunners it was cold.

She had enough room to move her arms to her head, and remove the helmet that was seeping and slurping the foreign air. Breathable at least. She took a moment to get her bearings, and deduced that she was lying down, face-up, but her legs wouldn't budge.

Her worries drifted to Cesha and Ogato. Hopefully they were in as good as shape as she wa-

"… Ugh…" groaned a voice, somewhere to her left and upwards. "… Feel that in the morning…"

There was a bit of scuffling of metal, and a great clang as a large piece must've slammed into the ground by the voices doing. Human. She snarled at her last memory before being knocked out. She had not rammed into _them,_ they had turned on them! Literally! She admired the move, but admiration was lost to fury.

"… Cap?" a new voice said, this was on the right. "… Get me outta this seat."

"Oh, h-hey! Hold on… urggghhh! There we go. Where are you?"

"Past the wing there, then turn left by the mangled engine."

Footsteps past by her. This 'Cap' was moving away. She soon heard the two converse about how good the chair looked, and knew now was a good time to move. Silently, she slowly freed herself, and started to move the snow and steel away to let the last days light sink into her eyes. As she emerged, the two humans had heard her grunting, and observed as her clawed hand broke through the surface.

"Er," said the first voice 'Cap'. "Is that a… zombie?"

To the Captain, Zun's hand in that moment would make a great Halloween poster.

"No," the other human said. "It's a jackal!"

"Cesha?!" she called, her beak and head scanning around. "Ogato?!" But they did not respond.

"You're beat, jackal," said Cap, who had forgotten the other human and was advancing on her. She hurried on and brought her legs to solid ground (or rubble). She looked up to Cap, and was utterly shocked by what she saw.

It was no Demon…

But an Imp! Not as bad. That was good.

The Imp came close, but it was unarmed and completely unaware of her incredible reach. She waited just long enough for it to draw near, then swooped its legs out from underneath it. Its legs were surprisingly ill-balanced, and it crashed to the floor almost lifelessly. To fight an Imp… it was certainly easier than what she thought it would be!

She got herself free, and stumbled to her feet. "I'll going to kill you… Imp!" She went for her hip, but of course, her pistol was nowhere to be seen.

"Not if I do it first!" Cap replied, and in a bewildering display of agility, launched itself to its feet using only its hands. It was much taller than her, and more intimidating, but Zun would prove that wrong.

The two of them braced into fighting stances, like a couple of boxers, is what Gale – who was still struggling to get out of his plastic-covered chair – would describe the duo.

Although Zun was only a bit more than half of Cap's height, her muscular legs helped her as she soared up and slammed her fist into the Imp's helmet. She need not worry about her hand, as they had been quite used to this kind of treatment. She did not stop there. Instead, she gripped one of the Imp's shoulders with one hand, and pounded its head with the other.

Once, as a child, the Captain rode to school on his bike through Forlorn Avenue nearby a park. And on that corner, every day of the week, a bird would swoop him as he passed. No matter how many times her cursed it, or how many modification he put on his helmet, it would end up pecking and picking as if its young depended on it. During those times he felt and looked completely terrified, and a tingling feeling would rush through his heart and cause a certain light-headedness.

A tingling sensation rushed through his heart and he felt light-headed and terrified at this moment. He flailed and spun, with Zun perched on his shoulders.

"Unhand me bird!" he cried.

"You blew up my ship!" she cried.

"You blew up _my_ ship!"

"It was necessary."

"Necessary? You're on MY planet in case you forgot. Don't talk to me about necessity."

The Imp tipped forwards, and Zun landed on the rubble in full force, the Imp jumped and landed on top of her, seizing her throat and squeezing hard. Zun flared, but it wouldn't let go. She refused to go out like this, and tried despite her weakening arms and burning breath to throw it off.

Just when she was about to lose consciousness, her neck suddenly let air back in. She looked up.

Swooping in, Cesha crashed into the Imp, and the two of them tumbled into what remained of the Longsword's hot tub. Zun, taking in a fresh gulp of air, staggered to her feet.

Cesha brandished one of her energy swords with a flick of a hand, and rested the blade on the back of the Imp's neck. "Resistance is bootless!" she said in her somewhat fluent English that had a sort of odd accent that wasn't quite Austrian, but the massage got through – the Imp stopped fighting, and raised its hands in its awkward position in the tub.

"Now," she said, moving the sizzling blade an inch closer. "If I have your attention-"

"You have mine, split-lip," Gale said from behind her. "You're done with that sword. Toss it in the snow, nice and easy."

"Curse it," Cesha said sadly. "Betrayed by my blindside…"

"Yeah, you've been blindsided, all right," Gale agreed. He stood behind and slightly to the right of Cesha, and now he moved his sniper rifle he had picked up moments ago forward until the Sangheili could feel the muzzle against the back of her head. Like Zun's, Cesha's helmet was too damaged for practical wear. Gale pulled back the bolt, and in the cold lands of the South pole, the sound was very loud. "Put the sword down."

"Sorry human, can't do that."

"… What?"

"You see, I've got my trusty blade against this _things_ head. You shoot me, this blade falls, and _it_ dies, too."

The Captain subsided his sudden impulse to fight. Behind his visor, he looked quite frightened, and he felt his complete mastery of the situation slipping away… Until today, that felt quite impossible. How could he let a split-lip get the drop on him? _No one_ gets the drop on him. This should be over.

Cesha sounded quite playful, and was smirking at Gale with half her attention divided to him. "So what'll it be, human?"

"I don't believe that," Gale said, but he didn't like what he heard in his voice. It sounded like doubt. "That won't work."

"Why don't we let the Imp decide?" Cesha raised her voice to good-humour. "Hiya there, Imp! Would you like the human to shoot me?"

"No thank you!" The Captains cry was quite shrill. "No Gale! Don't shoot! I'll probably die! I mean, imagine a world where I am not in it."

From behind Gales visor, he considered this. "Well…"

" _Gale_!"

"Alright, alright. So we got a standoff," said Gale, somewhat annoyed. Then annoyance turned into horror as he felt cold steel press against his back, right between the shoulder blades.

"No we don't," Zun said softly. "Put the gun down, human, or I'll shoot you dead."

 **5**

Approximately twenty meters north of the standoff, completely oblivious to the situation, Eaden woke roughly, hitting her head on an overhanging piece of steel, making her head thump so hard it would put any hangover to shame. To her amazement, she was still in her pilot chair, completely intact, unlike everything else around her.

Speaking of everything round her… why was there a hunter sulking off to the side of her seat? With two pistols lined up at its feet? She faked sleeping again, but soon found herself looking quite stupid – she had just hit her head, hadn't she?

 _There's time to grab a pistol… maybe._ She thought, but then the big hulky alien made a great effort to face its head at her.

"You want one of these pistols, don't you?" it asked – to her complete surprise. She was not under the impression hunters could talk, let alone English… and sound so damn _down_.

"I uh… Y-Yeah?"

"I wouldn't bother," it grumbled. "There's only one clip, and I need all the bullets."

"What? Why?"

"Why?" it mimicked, almost perfectly in her own tone. "Why do we do anything? What's the point? Of anything? Do you know? Of course you don't. I have a hundred times more brains than you, and I don't know, so how could you?"

"… Well you're a bag full of fun aren't you?"

"That's all I am, is that right? Just a bag everyone puts there problems in."

"Well uh, why… why's that?"

"You don't have to pretend to care you know," it said, voice as dry as a desert. "I know I'm just a meaningless 'hunter' to you and them and everyone. Why, the most interesting thing I did today was picking up a piece of-"

Eaden nabbed a pistol and the clip next to it. She was ready to open fire but the depressed hunter kept on talking its talk, and she lowered her gun to her hip slowly as it continued on.

"-the most interesting conversation I had was with this other Mgalekgolo called Numome…"

And before Eaden realised, her pistol was in her leg holster and her head was lolling. "And?" she asked.

"… It hated me."

Thankfully, she heard a few shouting profanities coming from behind her. Gale and the Captain were definitely alive. It was a good enough distraction for her to excuse herself from this hunter.

"Where are you going?" it asked her – she had only taken two steps and had halted at its question.

"I'm just uh, going to my friends, over there."

"Sounds awful."

"Well I wasn't inviting you."

"I'm not surprised."

It got to its feet after roughly seven seconds of effort. It had a big plasma canon on one arm, shield on the other. Even if it sounded uninterested, it still looked intimidating.

For one moment she thought it might just open fire for the hell of it, but instead it moved past her, towards the voices. The thought and worries about how she was now stuck in the middle of a snowy wasteland with no hope of escaping did not cross her mind, yet.

She followed the hunter.

 **6**

How and why the Mgalekgolo was such a downer was now the last thing on Eaden's mind. She could hardly believe what she was seeing: A Kig-Yar had the drop on Gale, who had the drop on a Sangheilian, who had a drop on the Captain – all of them inside what must've been a hot tub. _I can proudly say I've now seen it all_ , she thought to herself.

She decided to draw her gun, but not raise it just yet.

She couldn't miss this.

 **7**

Zun had finally gotten control of the situation, she expected nothing but compliance from the human with the rifle when she asked him to lower his gun, but the damn thing _refused._

" _No_?" she said, thunderstruck.

"You're on _our_ planet." Gale said. He buried the rifle deep into the Sangheili's bald dome. "The UNSC are already on their way to save us. You'll be hunted down like dogs. Unless of course, you come quietly…"

"Human, there's not a single other ship out here for many units. I don't need to live on this rock to know that no one is coming for you."

Zun picked out the nerves in his voice. Bluffing, he was. And she looked about this place and saw only snow and ice. No human would build anything out here, this much she was sure of.

Ogato and a human woman walked up to them. She was at first confused as to why he wasn't killing the human, but thought he was probably too depressed to do so.

"Ogato!" she called out anyway. "Help us out!"

"Eaden!" Gale called at the same time.

But Eaden and Ogato didn't move. _Great,_ thought Zun, _now Ogato's gone and made someone else depressed._

"If I may say something," spoke the Imp from the bottom of the standoff. "If you shoot Gale, and Gale shoots this elite just as she cuts me open, does that mean that Eaden would shoot _you_ , and all that would be left is that hunter over there?"

"I don't like that idea at all," said Ogato, turning to Eaden. "Please aim that gun at me, human."

"Can we just call it a draw?" Cesha said to the man with the sniper to her head. "Stand back, I'll let this Imp go."

"Not until you do the same, Jackal."

"Not a chance of that," she defended.

"Can we at least all get off of me?" complained the Imp. "I'd like to breathe again, thanks."

After a moments consideration – Cesha's knees _did_ ache a little – she let up on the Imp and let it rise to a crouch. With a sniper on her head and a sword on the Imp's throat, it was a bit awkward, but they all managed to rise to their feet after a moment.

"I," said the Imp. "Have a deal for you all."

With the sword still at its throat, Cesha hesitated, but then nodded to it. "Continue."

The Imp puffed out its chest and looked into the distance. "Even if we let this all go we won't get very far out there on our own, maybe a day, or two, the luckiest wouldn't even get three."

"Mhm," Cesha pondered. "What are you proposing?

"Whatever it takes, for as long as it takes me, wherever it takes me as long as it takes me away from this weather!"

"So…" said Zun from around Gale's shoulder. "An... Alliance?"

"An Alliance," agreed the Imp. "One for the ages, they'll right songs about this! But only until we find a way outta here, of course. Then that's it. A sort of uh… _Pact_."

"I can't believe you just said that," complained Gale.

"Said what?"

"Nothing. I… suppose we could work together. Not like your right or anything though."

"Huh…" Zun said. "… Okay, _you_ can ally with _us_."

"Oh no," said the Imp. "YOU are allying with US."

"No…" Zun started.

"Yeah…" the Imp said.

"Uh oh," said Cesha.

"Look," said Gale. "I don't care who is allying with who. Just as long as we're.. _allied_ , alright?! WE have bigger things to worry about, okay?!"

"Woah," said Cesha. "Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down. YOU calm down."

Cesha raised her hands in surrender, and holstered her blade into a sheath on her hip. Gale observed this, took a breath, and lowered his rifle.

"Zun?" Cesha asked.

Zun didn't need a second invitation. She put her rifle away. Ogato and Eaden entered the circle that the four of them had made without any weapons drawn.

The Imp put its hand into the open area between them all. "C'mon guys." he said.

They all hesitated.

"We have to do this, it's what allies do!"

"Seriously?" Eaden asked. But she put her hand on top of his anyway.

Cesha found this display rather intriguing and alien. But she put a hand on Eaden's and joined in on whatever this human tradition was.

Gale went to express his anger, but instead found mumbling some curses to be enough for now. He joined his hand.

Zun waited bit longer, not believing she had been reduced to _this_ , and after a bit of thinking she said, "Well, here goes." And she joined.

They looked at Ogato.

"I think you all ought to know this will end horribly." he warned.

"Ogato, please," Cesha lilted.

He heaved his shielded arm into the centre, and with a big whack he joined them all.

They all clutched their hands in pain.

"Excellent!" said the Imp. "Now we can get the hell outta here! For my name isn't-!"

He did give his name, but everyone's ears were too busy listening to the sound of the remnants of two ships exploding all round them. In the centre of the snowiest storm they had ever seen, erupted a small fireball that would destroy any remaining supplies that would've made an expedition into Antarctica just that much more easier.

The only good thing to come out of that, was that they walked away completely unharmed. Well, at least not mentally.

 **8**

Two pistols with half a clip each. One sniper with three clips. One plasma rifle with two hours of ammo. Two energy blades Cesha wouldn't part with. And Ogato's canon that he _claimed_ had only a few shots. Oh, and one knife and two shots of med gel, courtesy of the Captain who would hold onto these because he was 'in charge of the Expedition'.

This was all they had. Apart from the armour on their backs. And of course there personal skills which were somewhat below average – pilots being on the ground and all that.

After some hasty introductions, they had all gathered around a big pile of burning rubble for warmth, and with two people to watch over them, slowly drifted off to sleep one by one.

The two watchers for the night was Cesha (not for long, according to Zun) and the Captain. They had not said anything much to one another, and neither one of them were sure how to start. So the Captain thought to himself _what the hell_ , and decided to just say something.

"So!" he said.

"So!" she replied.

"You speak English quite well!"

"Yes its quite guttural isn't it?"

"You can say that again."

And then it ended like that. For a moment.

"It's… not often I get to speak to an Imp," Cesha said. "Did you fly your ship? Or was it all three of you?"

The Captain raised a brow behind his helmet at his title of 'Imp' but did not question it just yet. "Oh I'm just the Captain. I just order them around and all that jazz. No, Gale's the one with the moves, and Eaden of course helps out, but she's just the co-pilot."

A chunk of metal flew and hit him in the arm. "Heard that," grumbled Eaden, and was soon asleep again.

"Hmm." Cesha said.

"What about you? You the one who flew that thing into us?"

"Yep."

"Do you have NOS?"

" -'NOS'-, Imp?"

"Nitro? No? Never mind. And what about that 'Zun' girl? and Ogato?"

Cesha explained to him about their positions on the Seraph. The Captain listened to his sworn enemy better than he did with his own superiors. He hadn't learned so much about how the enemy pilots there ships since basics. Maybe this kind of knowledge could promote him! That'd be something…

Cesha on the other hand was dying to know about how this 'Gale' flew, but would just have to wait, she told herself. Who knows how much time they would spend in this frozen waste?

"Oh and by the way," Cesha warned, grabbing the Captains attention. "don't mention the ship to Zun."

"Oh, okay."

Zun awoke a second later, rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?" she asked.

Cesha shrugged, and looked to the Imp.

"Oh er… just past midnight." he said. "How's the ship Zun?"

" _What?!_ "

"The _hip!_ " Cesha corrected quickly. "He asked about your hip because I told him you hurt it in the crash!"

"… Ah." Zun said, not as angry now. "Well if you must know, its fine."

"No I asked you about the sh-"

Gale put a hand on his shoulder, and told him it'd be best if he got some sleep. The Captain agreed, and Gale took his place. Cesha stayed up a while, but decided to follow suit and get some rest.

Zun and Gale would discuss little. Neither one of them completely trusting just yet. But they would in time, no doubt about that.

The first night in the South Pole passed by uneventfully. And it would be the only peaceful night they would get, for the six of them would move at first light, deeper into the unknown.


	5. Chapter 5: The Road

**The Road**

 **1**

"Are we taking the hunter with us?" said the Captain, looking – from behind his helmet he refused to take off – with distaste at Ogato who was standing in an awkward hunched posture under one of the Longsword's wrecked wings.

Zun glanced away from a slanted mirror in the snow which presented a panoramic view of herself, from which she was adjusting her feathers so she looked as presentable as possible.

"Ah, Ogato the Depressed-orado," she said. "Yeah, sure."

"But what do you even do with a paranoid Mgale- whatever they're called?"

"You think you've got problems," said Ogato. "what is there to do if you _are_ a depressed Mgalekgolo? Don't bother answering that, I'm a jillion times more smarter than you and even I don't know the answer. To think down to your level gives me a headache."

Cesha burst into view from behind a big piece of scarp Seraph. "It's so damn cold! My armour's too thin and I can't feel my hooves!" she said. "This is horrible!"

An expression of deep worry failed to cross neither the Captain's or Zun's faces.

"That's what I said," confirmed Ogato.

Cesha glared a very upset glare at him, then asked, "So what's the plan then, Imp?"

"Right," the Captain said. "Well, what the situation is…"

"Oh God," muttered Gale, as he slumped against a chunk of debris, and started to count to one hundred. This was one of the few techniques he used when the fires inside him burned too hot.

"The Antarctic…" said the Captain, who had been trying to think of some simple and clever way to lead his new team to victory, lingered on his words and decided the best course of action was to delay long enough to get his head into gear.

"Look," he said. "There's these… rig-thingies, all round the Antarctic – military and science places. We go one way, we're bound to hit the coast. We scoot round the coast till we see a rig and boom, problem solved."

"And can we call in the Covenant too?" asked Cesha. "For all us non-humies present?"

"Sure thing! Just whack the number in and Pow! All our problems disappear!"

An Icy wind ripped through them, everyone beside Ogato hugged themselves warmly and stepped away from the wreckage into the barren snow of Antarctica. No one had any better ideas, so no one questioned the Captains logic, or bothered to ask how he knew such a thing.

"It'll all end in tears," warned Ogato as they all disappeared into the white landscape.

A few minutes later, two pieces of metal pried away from the snow to let a small device wonder out of the crash site.

 **2**

Six figures wondered slowly over the blighted land. Some of it was white, bits of it were _dullish_ white, and the whole rest of it was rather uninteresting to look at. It was like… well, like a desert covered with a layer of snow that reached up the humans shins and Zun's thighs, specifically. It was very cold.

The wind stung Zun's eyes and ears, and the stale thin air clasped her throat. However, the thing that was stung most was her mind.

"It's amazing…" she said, and her own voice rattled her ears.

"Desolate, degenerate, godforsaken wasteland if you ask me," said Gale. "I could have more fun if I dipped my nuts in a cup of peanut butter and waded them around in a pool full of piranhas." He felt his irritation mounting. (Nothing new there) Didn't he just have to turn up to a barren dump like this after being so close to being relieved from the military?

"No," insisted Zun, "you don't understand, this is the first time I've actually stood on the surface of an alien planet… a whole human world! … Such a dump though. Pity."

Eaden hugged herself, shivering and frowning. She could have sworn she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she glanced in that direction all she could see was the crashed ships, silent, a few years behind them.

The Captain was clearly depressed about this whole thing. He stalked off ahead of the group by himself. In the main group the Sangheili bent down so only her Kig-Yar friend could hear her.

"What's the Imp's name again?"

"Er," said Zun. "Don't know. Did it… _he_ … say it yet?"

"We must've missed it." They both looked ahead at the Imp, shook their heads, and decided that at the moment it wasn't worth talking to such a creature. Unlike Cesha, Zun wanted nothing to do with a thing that knew only to butcher. It amazed her that it hadn't tried to kill them yet, but maybe it was bred to try and spy on her and extract any information it could. She would have to be careful. Some would call this kind of behaviour paranoia, but she liked to think of it as being safe.

After the many wild and exotic worlds Cesha had seen, Antarctica was a rather unique place that would definitely be worth exploring. She started this by stooping down and picking up a cold clod of snow, but there was nothing underneath it worth crashing into to look at.

"How're you holding up, Ogato?" Cesha asked, turning her head round to face the big hunter.

"You don't have to pretend to care you know," he said. "We're only delaying our inevitable deaths on this depressing planet."

"Man," said Gale. "If _that_ thing thinks this place is depressing, he should see the U.S."

"He's so dark and disturbed," Eaden remarked with a hint of true admire.

Gale looked at her the way he did when his father gave him the _Talk_ \- sort of disgusted bewilderment expression.

"Er, hey, uh, why's he so down, Cesha?"

"Hmm. I'd love to know that answer too. But he's…"

"… too depressed to tell us," finished Zun.

They were a bit relieved when a second or so later they caught sight of the Captain standing on top of a small ridge of ground and waving to them to come and join him. From what they could tell without facial expressions, he seemed to be excited, but they couldn't clearly hear what he was saying because of the wind and atmosphere.

As they climbed the ridge and looked down the other side, they became aware of black and white lumps splattering the land, giving it some sort of feature that wasn't at all comforting. They stopped together and looked a piece. The lumps looked wet and fleshy.

"Look," said the Captain. "something I gotta show you all."

"We can see it," said Zun.

"Not that," he said. "Over there."

"What are these thingies?" asked Cesha.

Gale hunkered next to one of the lumps. After a sound that sounded like he was holding back a hurl, he stood. "Penguins," he said. "Dead… penguins? Shot with a big rifle or something."

"Forget the penguins," said the Captain. "What do you all make of that?"

The wind kicked up again, harder and heavier that at first obscured what he had seen. When it dropped, Zun shaded her eyes with one hand and looked across the snowy plain stretching out before them. She saw an inverted _L_ carved into the snow. The long arm stretched out a long way away from them. All the way to the horizon and disappearing over it. The short road could've been no longer than a hundred meters.

"Are those roads?" she asked. "Who'd want to make roads in this place?"

The Captain shook his head. "No idea. But I see something else as well."

"What? Your taller than me, Imp, what do your beady eyes see?"

"When we get closer, you'll see for yourself."

He tried to walk forward and she tugged at his arm and forced him down to her level. "Don't you play games with me. What is it?"

He didn't want to, but he gave in. "A roof. I think someone's made a cottage out there."

"People? Are you saying people?"

"Well I see some smoke coming out of it. So yes, a _people_ is likely. Now let go of my arm, your nails pinch."

She let go of him. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see people or not. Things would only get more complicated. "If there are humans, then you're keeping our presence a secret."

"Not to worry, you have my word."

Zun released her plasma gun and waved it at him. "Your word? Yeah, sure, I'll trust your word. Why, just take my gun while you're at it, Imp!"

"Why do you call me that? An Imp? Is that what you see me as, or are just _imp_ -lying that I'm ugly?"

"Jest all you want, _Captain_ , but if you think I'm gonna let you walk in there and get me and my friends killed, you got another thing coming."

"Now hold on," Cesha said, separating the two with her big arms. "There's only one house over there. Not the whole human army. Let's all go together and see what's up."

They all thought about this.

"Fine," Zun agreed, stepping away. "After you, Imp."

"Thank you, bird." And when he and Eaden were ahead, he looked at his arm and said, "Damn, I think she parched my skin."

Eaden removed a plate of his armour quickly, eyed the wound, and put the armour back. "Bah! It's just a small prick – a little like yourself, really. Come on."

About an hour later they came to the intersection of the road. The two roads had been plowed clear quite recently. The humans could very well see tread-marks, like those made by bulldozers. On the corner where the two roads met, rising out of the hard-packed snow, was a pole. It was no different than the signs they'd seen in any other city or town or planet – intersection signs, or something of the like. The one that indicated the short road said:

 _Nowhere_

However it was the other one that got Eaden's heart pumping. It read:

 _R_ obert _'S Road_

 **3**

There was only the lone cottage that decorated Roberts Road, and it lay half buried in a great snow heap. Its roof had been cleared of its potentially crushing weight of snow, and a path had been shovelled from the road to the front door. From its chimney was where the faint smoke was rising from, feather-white. One of its windows was lit up butter-yellow, and this is what caught Eaden's eye. The only question in her mind was who would answer the door when they knocked. Would it be Hansel and Gretel?

"We should pass it," Eaden said, dropping her voice to a whisper, even though they were on the road away from the house. "Give it a miss."

"What? Why?" said the Captain. "Whoever's inside's probably got directions for us. Or food… drink… a bed? Oh yeah, I'd love a bed right about now."

She hadn't even considered the proposition and of course she couldn't refuse a break from this thin air. Already breathing was difficult and her suit wasn't helping her. She'd have to take this stupid helmet off soon, and the thought of a good drink felt good.

 _On the other hand,_ she thought… but it was too late for other hands, because the front door of the cottage opened, and an old man came out on to the stoop. Boots, jeans, and a big fur coat. He looked almost the navy type.

The old man limped heavily, but looked in very good health, and he was depending on a stick in his right hand. He walked down the steps of the fairytale cottage, and waved his stick at them.

"Hey there!" cried the old man. "What're ya doin standing round in the wind like a bunch of golems? What, born on different worlds, are ye?" He raised his stick into a kind and proud salute and laughed the way a wooden board would under weight.

"Only half of us," said Cesha. "Looks like we're not passing." And she raised her own hand in return.

"He's… how does he grow so _old_?" questioned Zun. "How does he live out here? Look! He almost fell down those stairs!"

Cesha, having met and cared for more elderly than the other five of them combined, stood forward and warned them. "I'll go first and talk to him."

"The biggest of us all is going to introduce herself first?" whispered the Captain to his fellow humans. "I give him twenty seconds before his heart caves in."

"Captain," Cesha said. Her eyes became grave and attentive. "Just shut up."

"What? I didn't say anything."

"But you just did," Zun pointed out.

"That's not fair."

"I know you are but what am I?"

" _Shut up!_ " Cesha yelled to them. And when she spun round to face the old man, she used her four mandibles that made up her mouth, and gave her best smiling impression. It was kinda terrifying.

The old man got on his journey to them well enough with his stick, moving in a sideways hopping motion that Eaden found both amusing and admirable. She saw no danger in the white-haired fellow. And, as he drew closer, she saw that one of his eyes was as black as night. No pupil was visible. But the other eye was spry, and regarded his newcomers with lively interest.

He made it halfway towards them, saved himself from a tumble, then waved it at them again.

"Hello good ol' cump'ny! My, I haven't had the pleasure of pilgrims in years on end! It's always good to see fellows, maybe Santa's givin' me a present for all the long years of waiting! Arrr, ne'mine my ramblings, come on and give an old fella a hand?"

Cesha walked quickly over to the old man. Being nearly twice his size, he fit quite well into her support.

"Names Robert. Robert Slate. Hope yer having a swell time, out thar in the snow! Why don't ya come on in and grab some tea and blankets?"

At this, most of them sighed there reliefs. Robert motioned for Cesha to move to the cottage and she did just that. The Captain, Gale, and Zun followed them up to the porch. The snow that piled on either of the path side was as high as the Captains head.

However, Ogato did not follow them. Instead he slumped his big body on the first porch step, and decided that hunching over himself was the most comfortable position he could muster. Eaden saw the others move inside, and decided to crouch down next to Ogato when he refused to acknowledge anything other than his own feet.

"Er, Ogato? You coming in?"

He tilted his head up at her, regarded with his tiny green eyes, and looked at the ground again. "I hate the indoors."

"But aren't you hungry? Thirsty? We'll need you to be good and strong for the trail ahead."

"No you don't. I know perfectly well I'm slowing you all down. It'll be terrible in there, I know it."

"I don't understand you," she said, standing.

"We're in a desert, human, nothing good can come of anything anymore. You'll see. Our enemy is coming for us."

"And who, _is_ our enemy?"

"Time."

"Okay… Way to go with the sudden drama…" She pulled off her helmet and put it on the step – the thing had started to beep and she was tired of it. She walked to the door and placed a hand on it. "We won't be long, Ogato. Will you be okay out here?"

"No, I won't. And you won't either."

"Right."

She closed the door behind her. She was greeted with the sight of a hallway lit by candles, high up above her head. The whole place looked and felt quite tight, and a thin layer of dust covered a bright red entry carpet. At first thought, she'd much rather prefer the outside. A feeling of slowness washed her over, but Slate's hand slapped her shoulder with hard companionship, and she was snapped out of it. Now that he was stood next to her, he was rather tall for his age!

"All's well, all well," Robert said. He gave her a look with his good eye to make sure she was indeed all right, then began to move to the door that had not closed properly.

"Wait, wait," she said, reaching out to grab his arm. "I got it, you'll fall on your thiddles."

At this Robert Slate roared with laughter, and Eaden joined him well enough.

"My thiddles! Why, what even _is_ that? Bah! A good one regardless, my… is that German I hear? Aint it so?" He brushed the snow off her armour and hair. She was very glad they had not stopped. She offered him a hand.

"Eaden Ahanahue. From Frankfurt."

His own hand was ungloved, and although arthritis showed itself on them, his grip was as cold and hard as ice. "Frankfurt, is it? Would've been my first guess, I tell ya! Anywho come in, come in. I got eggnog waitin!"

There was a rag rug on the living room floor that would have looked at home in Eaden's grandma's house, and two lazy boy recliners with a table between them. The table was heaped with magazines of the military type, books, and a pair of spectacles, and a few bottles filled with brown liquid. But what took all of Eaden's attention – and Gale's, as well – was the photograph on one of the walls. It was slightly askew, and the way it was presented seemed almost sacrilegious.

It was a photograph of the Longsword.

Not _a_ Longsword, _the_ Longsword. To Eaden the Longsword always looked a little odd (before it crashed, that is) and to her she was sure this was the exact same. Her breath deserted her, and she walked over to it barely feeling the nubbles of the rug beneath her. "Jungs?"

"Hey, what'd you say?" asked the Captain.

"Sorry, I meant _guys_ , look at that!"

Gale's face had gone dead pale except for two hard balls of red burning on his cheeks. His helmet was clipped to his hip, and his blazing eyes… _blazed_ , at the photo. The Longsword stood against a dark wall of a hanger bay, and although its hull was dull, it still looked rather lovely.

Gale whispered, "Its…! Its…!" but his breath was gone too.

"That's our ship, Kapitan!" Eaden finished.

The Captain brushed a hand over the canvas. "Rubbish! There's like a million Longsword's out there, why would _that_ be ours?"

"You might be right… Robert!" she said. Her voice was a whisper. She suddenly felt faint. "Robert! Where did you get this…?"

"Oh, those were the days…" he said, looking completely pleased and ignoring the hysteria. "It's a good 'un, aint it? I was a pilot back in the UNSC soooo long ago. You're pilots too aintchya? Best damn thing since life's bread hey? Now who wants truffles?"

"I never said we were pilots…" Eaden mumbled.

Robert slammed a plate of truffles onto the table, then proceeded to pull up some spare wooden stools that he must've gotten from out of thin air because Eaden had not spied any from before.

Cesha had taken one of the recliners, and put one of the truffles into her hands and was examining it thoughtfully. "Truffle?" she said. "It looks like a modified testicle!"

"I can't believe you just said that…" Gale said. "Uh, Robert? Where's the bathroom?"

"Up those stairs over there and it's the third door on the left! Don't worry 'bout Pickles! He don't bite!"

"Uh huh. Okay," he said, more confused than a cow in a milk factory. "I'll watch out for… pickles, I guess."

Just as he passed out into the hallway, Zun and the Captain grabbed one arm each of the spare recliner, and proceeded to argue over who deserves it more. Eaden sat opposite them, and drew and struck a smoke.

 **4**

Although Robert Slate lived alone, the second floor held enough rooms for a whole family to live in. The intuition to explore never crossed Gale's mind as he passed the first two left doors. He had to go and nothing would stop him. But something at least delayed him long enough to hold fast and peer further up into the corridor.

Two orange eyes peered up at him from the far corner. In a few moments, he would realise that as he stared down these menacing dots, there was a low humming accompanying them.

 _Guess you must be Pickles,_ Gale thought as he entered the bathroom. He hated cats. They were worse than the war.

Robert's bathroom had a distinctly feminine feel to it, Gale noticed as he used it. The wall paper was pink, with green leaves and red roses. The john looked perfectly modern except for the ring, which was wooden. Had he carved it himself? He didn't think it was out of the question, although where you got wood from in the South Pole was beyond Gale.

On the other side of the john was a washstand set into a waist-high wooden cabinet – good old plainoak, he judged. There was a mirror above it, and he presumed you swing it out and there were pills and potions for you. All the comforts of a damn good home.

But there was no shower. Odd, but forgettable.

Outside the bathroom he could hear Robert say something, he couldn't tell what, then the Captains response and then the Sangheili's own few words with a chuckle. Had he ever seen an elite talk before? Let alone laugh? Or a female one at that? He realized he had not. All the ones he had seen were the usual – hard-headed, aggressive, the looks of pure hate in there beady eyes as they rushed at their foes wielding swords against guns. But this one, this 'Cesha', was just plain laid-back. Almost like a mediator or something.

 _Do your business quickly_ , he told himself.

He did so. Something was seriously wrong about this whole thing. He had the faintest sense of being watched, and were his senses correct? Of course. He moved to the washstand and turned on the water. It came out in a gush, blotting out the sounds coming from out the door. It was cold, and he splashed it gently on his face. When he was done he used Roberts wide selection of cloths that hung nearby to clean himself.

As he put the towel aside, he stared at his reflection for a while. He had no cuts, no bruises, not so much as an inch of pain. This wouldn't bother most people, but after crashing into another craft at high speeds, you'd think you would've been at least in moderate pain with scars to carry. But no. Nothing at all. Maybe there was something, behind all this armour. Surely Robert wouldn't miss a bottle of medicine, or a roll of cloth from his cabinet would he?

Robert Slate… Even the name sounded _wrong_. Robert… Slate… had he heard it before? No, not quite.

 _Why is there an old man living out here? So friendly, so… casual. And that Longsword picture... Something aint right._

He closed his eyes and once more saw those street signs on their poles. _Nowhere_ one read, the one that ended suddenly. The other, the one that pointed to this cottage, had said _R_ obert _'S Road_ , only…

The _S_ was capitalised, and the apostrophe had been added in, so had the other letters aside from the _R_. He put it into his mind's eye. Was there a dot instead of the apostrophe? He blew on the mirror, fogging it.

He printed the initials on the Longsword windshield that had been an annoying distraction during flight:

 _R.S._

And below it:

 _Robert Slate_

Sometimes thinking about things too hard paid off. Gale forgot all about the cabinet – he had to get down stairs now.

He got halfway on his journey, then froze. There was something standing in the doorway. _Floating_ , really. He was unable to scream. Instead it took him about thirty seconds to say the word 'what?', and then his eyes went so big his eyelids started to ache.

What he saw, was this: an evil looking robot with short stubby legs and two circular wings for arms that hummed wildly. Its face held a wicked grin, the kind an evil vampire would after having its fill. Its whole body was sleek, and silver, and most of it was lighted up with blood-orange neon lights.

Its sharp eyes looked at him. His courage escaped his head, went down his spine, out his foot and all the way back to the wreckage.

"P-Pickles?"

 **5**

"You know," said Robert. "I cannot for the life of me decide what's for tea, so I'll just go ahead and serve it all up," He laughed a laugh that only old people who had lived alone for a long time could own, and Cesha found it quite funny, and joined him.

"That's the thing with us humans," said the Captain. "Tea is the day's hardest decision, believe me."

After brunch – surely the finest meal Zun had had since crashing into this world, and possibly the best in her entire life – a sore appeared on the corner of Zun's beak. It was Roberts fault, in a way, but when they later had much to hold against the inhabitant of Roberts Road, she did not blame him for that. It was the last thing he would have wanted, surely.

He served chicken (Zun had the sudden impulse to pass on that for no specific reason she could say) including mash potatoes with gravy, and cranberry jelly sliced into thick red discs. There was also onions, and eggnog.

He seemed spryer as he came back and forth from the kitchen, less dependent on the stick. Maybe it was the 'piss' in the brown glasses he served that might have had something to do with it.

He poured coffee and the four of them sat down in the living room. Outside it was growing dark and the wind was screaming louder than ever.

"This is great!" said Zun.

"Yeah, really great!" agreed Eaden.

"Better than that," Zun added. "It's fantastic!"

" _Really_ fantastic!"

Cesha slammed her knife and fork that was too tiny for her hands down on the table. "Are we eating the same stuff?!"

"Hey Cap," said Eaden. "Aren't you gonna have a bite? Take that helmet off for a bit."

The Captain had lost the lazy boy and was quite annoyed about it. He had refused to sit down and no one had offered him one, which further irritated him. When Eaden addressed him, he turned around and looked out a window into the distance. "No," said he. "I-"

"Good, I wouldn't want to throw up such a meal," Zun said. The other inhabitants of the room snickered.

"What?" the Captain yelled, turning. "What did you say?"

"HELP!" The sound of a suppressed gunshot, and the sound of someone falling over and breaking there watch. Maybe a Rolex. This was the response.

"Was that Gale?" Eaden asked. They all looked at each other. Then Robert came back holding a platter of deserts.

"Bah!" he said. "Probably just the cat."

"HELP!"

"You're right," the Captain agreed.

"I'll go check," Cesha stood and marched round the table to the staircase. She hated the feast anyway.

"If you want," said Robert. And to Zun he suddenly looked a little less human. Was his nose and mouth a little more like scars on his face? Or was it merely a trick of the light? In the fireplace a knot of wood exploded, shooting a flurry of sparks up the chimney. "And while you're up there, can you bring us a bag? Something for the scraps, you see. They're by the towels."

"All right." Cesha nodded, and left.

"So you fellers I'm guessing are heading to the oil riggies?" the old man asked, serving his dishes which were consumed two seconds flat by Zun.

"Huh?" asked the Captain. "Oil rigs?"

"Yar! Just off the coast! Follow my road and ya'll get there no sweat! They're UNSC too, so I'm sure you know the codes to unlock them?"

"Er, no… Not quite…"

"Well I'll just go and tell ye! There's a front door on the ground level, a nice gold-lookin thing, the code is 4297. You get me? Good, now who wants eggnog?"

 _Must be a navy man then,_ Eaden summarised, then leaned over to the Captains ear and asked, " 'Not quite'? I thought you knew about the oil rigs?"

"Don't tell anyone," he replied. he looked left and right to make sure no one could hear, and said, "I just… kinda… made that up. It's the damndest thing, huh?"

"It's a thing alright."

 **6**

Cesha had her hands on her blades. Robert had insisted she leave them at the door on a table there, but she wouldn't dare part with them. Guess her family had rubbed off on her after all.

As she made it halfway up the stairs, she heard two more gunshots coming from up the corridor. One belonged to the gun Gale had, and the other… sounded energetic, and not at all at home to her ears.

Cesha scrambled up the stairs and tore down the bathroom door quite literally. She had kicked it and it fell flat against the floor. Gale was hiding behind the 'john', using its wooden lid like a Kig-Yar would use a shield, his face was a mix of both confusion and anger, an expression her parents liked to make at her when she insisted on becoming a pilot. A machine she could not identify was looming over him, firing those shots of energy that wasn't plasma or bullet.

Cesha leapt at it and severed one of its wings with a swipe of an energy blade. When she expected it to fall off the body, her blade instead met the air between the wing and body. The parts of the machine weren't even connected! Magnets, maybe?

She swung both her blades, crisscrossing at the middle, and this time both its rotors blew up into small balls of flame and wreckage. The main body turned to her, and its little mean face snarled before the entire chassis fell lifelessly to the floor, the eyes fading into darkness.

"What the Forerunner was that thi-"

But she was cut off as the floor was set aflame and she clutched her left foot in pain as she lifted it up lighting quick. She hopped around the bathroom for a moment until she found a spot flame-free. Any other time and Gale would've laughed at the display, but this wasn't another time.

"Get up, Gale! We're going to burn!"

"That _thing_ is on my leg! Get it off!"

She picked up and tossed the machine away. Simple as that. Gale expected it to take longer, it had felt rather heavy on his leg. He tossed the toilet ring aside and stepped cautiously over the flames. Cesha was already at the door. "Hurry up!"

"It shot me, Split-lip, give me a moment."

She looked out the corridor and was surprised to see three more machines like the one in the bathroom coming down from a distant door. They fired a volley of bolts and she took cover behind the door.

Gale took cover next to her. "Don't tell me, there's more, isn't there?"

"There's more."

"I only got five shots left. Got any ideas?"

"We hoof it downstairs."

"You kidding me? We'll be mince meat before we even, _woop!_ " Gale cried in astonishment, as Cesha lifted him up and over her shoulders before bolting out of the bathroom and down the hall. Bolts flew past their ears as she carried Gale fireman-style away from the machines. In a few seconds she had reached the flight of stairs.

"You know," said Gale. "you're a very strong woman."

"No, you're just very tiny."

 **7**

When they returned to the kitchen, Cesha set Gale down and proceeded to put Robert into a choke hold.

"I said _bag_ , not _gag_ you damn whippersnapper!" he cried.

The first thing that Gale noticed about the others was that Eaden had gone incredibly pale, and Zun was clutching her stomach, but the Captain looked at least a little alert. "Gale!" he said. "What the f-word was all that ruckus?"

"Hand me a med-gel."

The Captain put a hand in his pocket, and handed him a small red kit. "You look like a drowned cat. Er, not that I'd know what that'd look like."

"Shut up and take this gun. These… _thingies_ are coming down those stairs."

"Thingies! Right-o, Gale! You can count on me, I wasn't a Captain for nothing!"

"Whatever. You too Eaden, use those bullets sparingly… Eaden?"

Eaden staggered two steps to the fireplace, bent forward with her hands on her lower thighs, and vomited. Gale then looked to Robert Slate, and saw that his hair, was now completely gone. The lines around his eyes and mouth had been erased too. He also looked thirty years younger, and his nose had shrunk into a flat mat. He slammed an elbow into Cesha's face just as she said, "Alright, _Robert_ , why in the Gods name do you- _Oof!"_ Robert cried victoriously, lashed out, as agile as a dancer. Cesha flew back and hit the wall hard enough to knock a plaque reading _The Gods Watch Over Us_ to the floor. Robert turned to her, she was lying down on her back, gasping.

"You know what I think?" he asked. "I think you don't enjoy my comp'ny." Robert put one foot on Cesha's chest – like a big game hunter with a trophy. "After all I did, and this is how you treat me? Uncanny! Why I-"

He never heard Gale jumping and diving onto his back because he was too busy boasting. Gale laced his fingers around his throat, and applied as much pressure as he could. Robert lost balance and moved away. But he grabbed Gales back, and threw him off a moment later.

"You couldn't just hold it in?" Robert said. He smiled, revealing, devilish, sabertooth fangs, and why not? To Gale, this was no longer a human, but a sort of freakish bogeyman. His face was contracting, changing, turning into some being never before seen by humans nor the Covenant. He took one of Cesha's fallen blades, and extended it out to meet Gale's neck.

A second before he could press any harder, Cesha sliced her remaining blade into Roberts shoulder, and met surprisingly tough resistance. Robert staggered, and fell over onto the rug. His curses ended abruptly when he struck his head, and put him out.

"Outside…" Cesha puffed. "… Get outside…"

Zun Tak, the almost Shipmistress, staggered passed the Captain who had resorted to saving his remaining two bullets, and was using his knife to busy himself and the assaulting machines. "I hope you can't count very high, guys!" he yelled. She pulled open the door. The wind ripped it from her grasp and threw it against the wall with a bang. She walked down the porch into the blizzard, went to her knees, and threw up. The wind ripped away the egested material into the dark.

"This… This is terrible!" she said, staring out into the late evening.

"That's what I said," Ogato droned from behind her, in his exact position as they had last seen him.

"Oh shut up."

The Captain and Eaden followed her out, as did the machines. But back inside Cesha was kneeling beside Gale who had had his neck nicked ever so slightly.

"Gale, are you all right?"

"No!"

" _Fools!_ " Robert cried, making them face him. He had only faked his knocking out and had put his hand on a concealed button by the fireplace. "To think you could outsmart me! This is only the beginning!"

He hit the button.

Outside, the four of them dealt with the machines, and the Captain posed proudly over the pile of scrap metal that had been decimated by them.

"Well," he said. "at least everything worked out in the end!"

And then Roberts cottage, like a house in a flood, was swept away and into the earth, leaving a sizable crater in its wake.


	6. Chapter 6: Tunnel

**Tunnel**

 **1**

Gale just _had_ to wonder about his minimal injuries long enough to let whatever evil watched over them take action, didn't he? Every bone felt like needles were gnawing at them, and his lungs caved in ways that would make physicians cringe.

He took a moment to simply lay there, for indeed he was lying on his back in almost pitch-black darkness, save for a distant light high up overhead. What was it they said about the light? Did you leave it or go to it? He couldn't think too long on this, because the light was gone, and a silhouette was replacing it. A rather large silhouette, in fact.

" _Look out belowWWWWWWW!_ " And before Gale could mutter her name, Cesha came down and _**PSH**_. Made the world spin round him again.

Gale thought he had earned another minute or ten to rest and recover, so all he said was, "… ugh…"

"I'll feel that in the morning," Cesha sighed. "Hey Gale. Did we get him?"

"Yep," he wheezed. "You got them."

She was as heavy as she looked. Cesha removed herself off of Gale's crushed waist, and dusted herself off. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark.

At her feet lay the human pilot lying face down, with his armoured limbs splayed either side of him, and he was groaning from the discomfort from _both_ their falls.

"Gale? Are you alright?"

"… Oh god… My bojanglers…"

He sat up after a moment, supported himself upright with his palms in... not quite dirt or snow, but a bit of both. He looked down at a set of peculiar glowing objects, they looked similar to sniper rifles, only chunkier, with orange lines decorating the sides and ridges that provided a low amount of light. They were made for very, very large hands.

He grabbed the handle, because why wouldn't you pick up such an alien-looking thing when you've crashed into the South Pole, and your companied up with aliens? To his surprise the rifle whirred to life, and assembled itself into a snug fit in his hand.

"What _is_ that?" Cesha squatted next to him.

"Hang on… I got a light here somewhere… There we go." From his chest plate a little torch came to life. He tried to lift the rifle but found it so incredibly heavy that even screwing up his face wouldn't make his arms any stronger.

"Here." Cesha took the rifle off his hands without so much as blinking, and stood to observe it. When she took a moment to take it in, her two lower mandibles parted, and an expression of plain shock crossed the aliens face.

He looked at her big eyes. Raised an eyebrow. Then silently asked her what was wrong.

"F-F-F-Fa-Fah-Fa…" she said.

"What?" he said. He scanned his torch all round and only saw bits of broken furniture. "Where's Robert anyway? What was that all about? Why were Eaden and Zun as sick as dogs? What was in that stuff? Gunk, maybe? Sputum?"

"F-F-Fa-Fah…!" she said again. Then she clutched her stomach and suddenly realised she had had a small fill of Roberts feast too. Her stomach suddenly realised this too, and groaned in pain.

"Look, don't think about that now, Cesha. I can't have you hurling over everything. Help me up?"

"F-F…"

"-'F-F'- what?"

"F-F… _Forerunner!_ " she roared. _"ThatguywasaForerunner!"_

"Huh? A what?"

She took a breath.

"W-Well… they're the Ancients!" breathed Cesha in sepulchral tones. "The ones who came after the Precursors!"

Gale peered at her and tried to make sense of what little information he had at his disposal. He remembered researching the Covenant society in his spare time, and even though religion was the life force of all the fighting, he had found other things remarkably more interesting. He didn't really regret it though. Actually he would later be quite grateful for his ignorance.

"What you might call a God," she said, and if her breathing had been sepulchral before, this time she sounded like someone in Hades with bronchitis. "The Precursors were the first, then came the Forerunners. I've had a few close-ups with some Forerunner artefacts, and this… this is made of the exact same material. Oh no… Do you know what this means?"

Gale frowned in puzzlement. He started to speak.

"…" is as far as he got.

"It means I just _strangled_ a God! Choke hold and everything! Oh God, as if things weren't bad enough…"

"Now hold on-"

"He could… Could just _blink_ and we'll be dead. Or trapped! We're trapped, aren't we?"

"There's a cave or something in that wall over there, that might be a way out."

He stood and pointed. Indeed a sort of tunnel extended out into the wall of ice. But around them was what looked like the remains of Robert's workshop. A few lifeless chassis lingered here and there, chassis of the floating robots that shot literal light at them. There were a few smaller variants of the rifle too heavy for Gale, but when he went to grab another Cesha stopped him.

"You don't understand. All this technology… we shouldn't be here."

Somewhere off to the side of them something hummed to life.

"There might be something we can use. I need answers, I need-" _**GOLONK**_. "-Okay you're right lets go."

As much as the temptation to open up and strip the workshop for clues was, they both knew they didn't want to be anywhere near this place when it woke up. All they had was five shots in the pistol and two swords, and if Cesha was right, and that this Robert was indeed a Forerunner, than they had as much chance of living as a baby cow would in a veal factory.

Making sure he had his pistol – he did – he followed Cesha into the dark recess of what he would later call the Mines of the Pole.

 **2**

That was what it was close to. Mines. Roberts Mines. What kind of God had enough time to build mines in a snowy waste? Nothing good, obviously, but if there was some sinister use for underground tunnels, then neither of them saw any.

There they trudged through the darkness. And to Gale's surprise Cesha was leading with _him_ watching _her_ back, which was huge-looking to him. And yet she had wordlessly taken the lead without so much as a 'I'll cut you're limbs off if you say one word'. Which he might've expected from a Sangheili.

Honestly, he didn't know what to do other than to just go with it.

About half an hour later, thirty minutes away from Roberts workshop, Gale struggled to keep up with the large Sangheilian. She stomped on ahead of him, fingers imbedding into the grips of her energy swords. She'd on the occasion check to still see he was there, but the trip so far was wordless.

Maybe that whole thing with the 'strangling a god' was getting to her.

Gale couldn't quite comprehend that the old man was an ancient God. But the idea was very strange, what with the whole initials matching and everything.

Speaking of which…

"Hey, Cesha?"

"Mm?"

"We're stopping for five."

She stopped moving forward, spun round, and nodded. He sat down gratefully. "My legs feel like rubber," he added.

"No worries." She smiled that smile that would return even the boldest gaze.

"You know," he said after a few moments, catching her eye. "Every other elite I've seen are so wild they remind me of Russel Crowe. But you, Cesha… thought you'd be all Honour and Glory like the rest. Unless you're putting on some sort of show."

She gave an understanding nod. "Those were the exact same words Zun first said to me. But that's just what the males do, you know what I mean?"

He blinked in confusion, then supposed to himself that he did.

"Even my family gave me a good hiding at all these 'faults' and 'emotions' I've been developing since before I hopped into a Seraph. Why, I've been able to lie to a very modest standard since I was little. For example: you have a very fine haircut. Huhuhuhu! See how good I've got?"

Gale stuttered in fury and said nothing coherent or apposite. He brushed his hair with a hand and wondered.

"Also I've _mastered_ pomposity," she said. " _even though I do say so myself!_ Huhuhu!"

He tried to see if she really was putting on a show. He couldn't find anything. She continued.

"And sadness: _Oh my. It's killed us._ And happiness: _Oh no it hasn't!_ And there's also- _OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT?!"_

"I'm guessing that's surprise?"

" _NO- THERES A-"_

"No it's fear, isn't it?"

And that's when the thing nibbling on Gale's leg was then registered to his mind. He caught his breath. Drawing out as much time as he could, Gale slowly gazed lower… lower… until the monster on his leg entered his vision. The next moment was simply Gale and Cesha staring at the gelatinous _thing_ resting its greasy body on his right leg.

A few antennae's wriggled around for a time, but it must've sensed them staring at it, and lifted its body up to stare right back at them. There was no sound at all in the stare-off. But that was until it 'looked' at Gale and asked him one simple question.

"Meep?" it squeaked.

"-GETITOFFME!-GETITOFFME!-GETTHISTHINGOFFME!" screeched Gale, feet kicking up a storm as he scrambled desperately away from the thing attached to him.

"Hold still!" Cesha brandished one of her swords, lighting the tunnel around them in a low, blue hue. Gale tried to heed her warning, but his legs disagreed with them and found that the best thing to do in this situation was to try and throw it off using sheer force.

"I've also sorted out rudimentary violence!" Cesha added. "Along with anger. Like so. _Hi-yah!_ " She sliced her sword down and to the side, away from Gale's body, and cut the hideous form in two. The mutant alien stopped sucking up on the rather tasty human leg, and slunk over its meal, twitching for a few moments before dying.

Gale flicked it away, and it splattered against the wall. He sighed in relief.

Once they gaped at each other, something just as surprising as the weird alien on Gale's leg happened a second later. The walls, ground, everything, started to violently shake, similar to when your being shot at whilst in an aircraft.

When their visions stopped jumping left and right and up and down, Cesha looked round and found nothing unusual.

"What was that?!" asked Gale.

"A Flood form," explained Cesha.

"Not that, the _earthquake!_ –Wait, what? Flood form? What?"

"They get into the skin, dig their little arms right up into the nerves. Make you walk around for them!"

"…"

"It's your planet, Gale. Don't ask me why it's here."

An accusing finger pointed its way to the elite. "Are you making all these things up? –Forerunner? Flood form? -Or have I finally gone mad…"

"Well hopefully there's no more of them." Cesha inspected the Flood form dejectedly before sheathing her blade. "Cause if there was. Well… We'd be dead before you could say ' _My shields are down!'_."

There was an ominous skittering noise coming from back the way they had come.

They both looked worriedly that way.

"Maybe it was just the wind?" suggested Gale.

About seven more things asked the question, "Meep?" at a distance most concerning.

"Do you need to be carried again, Gale?"

"Uh no. No… Thanks for asking? I guess?"

"Alright. Follow the Cesha-shaped blur!" And she took off down the tunnel. Gale followed the blur.

 **3**

The bright, the friendly, the people who wanted to go out of their way to be 'helpful', were in Gale's judgement quite annoying.

Within the next few hours after contact with the Flood form, the bright, friendly, and helpful Sangheili had not in any way shown any sign of shutting up anytime soon.

He felt conflicted about this.

This war – the human-covenant conflict – had been going on for so long that Gale had seen his fair share of action, and none of it was what you'd call pleasant. He'd seen Sangheili's cut down dozens, and executed many more.

He should hate them. He _did_ hate them. But this one… the worst he could say was _bothersome_.

Just now, for example, she had picked up there last conversation and continued on. Gale wanted to listen out for any more Flood (he thought the name and idea of a Flood was ridiculous, and did not yet fully believe it) but rather than keep both ears behind him, he paid the alien some attention he wasn't ready to give.

"Anticipation is pretty much done," she said. "I was going to show it at this year's emotion show, but of course invading your planet postponed it. But at the moment I'm working on ambivalence, which is feeling two opposite emotions about the same thing. See?"

She demonstrated ambivalence. When she asked for his opinion, he replied with, "You look like a dog with a caramel toffee"

"I still haven't quite got the hang of it yet." she replied truthfully. "What about you? Got any emotions I haven't listed down yet?"

"Irritancy."

"That's a good one! My mother used that one quite frequently! Can't imagine why…"

"Me neither."

"Hey look a button!"

"Yeah, cool, I'll just go and- Wait what? What button?"

"Just here on the wall. Should I press it?"

"Should you press this random button on the wall? No! What're you, crazy?"

"Aren't we all?"

Gale picked at her arm. "Come on," he said nervously. "Think I just heard something behind us…"

"But are you not at all curious?"

"Not anymore. Let's go! I see some eggplants coming!"

"Could open up a secret escape hatch," Cesha reasoned. "Or something very convenient. It'll only take a second."

 **4**

It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems by pushing buttons.

Surprisingly, Cesha had done and learned this lesson the hard way a long time ago. It was not surprising to anyone who knew her personally. But it is a surprise to know that the number of people who knew her on a personal level was quite low, given her stance on her 'open-bookiness'. That was surprising.

Her little Button Fever had started when she was little. On her home planet Sangheilios. She, her mother, sister and brother, were waiting for the family transporter to rock up on their front lawn to take them to a friend's wedding. It was public space, and of course everyone was rowdy that the driver was late. Cesha included.

Cesha wondered round the bus stop (It's not an actual bus stop, but it looked like a bus stop/train station hybrid, only a lot more excitingly chunkier) Skipping every other step, though not straying too far from her family, to try and find something to entertain this rather boring waiting.

She had found it.

On the side on the bus stop, looking rather seductive, was a large, red, button. Unlabelled. Mysterious. And to her young retinas, the paint job flashed a quick and pleasant flash off the great sun above her.

What struck her, her sister and brother, not to mention her mother, was how quickly and unhesitant Cesha had brought up her tiny arm and punched the button. In the later years the siblings would take great joy in telling the tale. But it took a long time for her mother to forgive her for setting off the alarm at a public space, and bringing in the local authorities, where the only threat was some little girl was going around and pushing every button within a five thousand unit radius.

And when her mother had found out a few moments after the sirens went off and she saw Cesha standing next to the button, Cesha's excuse was, "I push but!"

Since that day, she had pressed five hundred and thirty two buttons.

None of which had solved any problems.

The one in the South Pole was no different than the five hundred and thirty _one_ other buttons before this. And as a consequence of this, she is now trapped on a tiny ledge that outcropped from an icy wall some few hundred units above the ground, hugging herself to keep from freezing.

How she got there, is the following:

"You know what you've done?" Gale yelled painfully, though the only thing hurt was his brain. "You've only gone and killed us both. I mean, are you looking for a death wish?"

Cesha removed her hand from the button, and wondered what on Sangheilios he was talking about. She turned to him. She then knew what he was talking about.

The earthquake from before was only the beginning in comparison to what was happening all around them. From where they came from, it used to be only blackness. Now it was blackness, _and_ the walls crumbling inward.

Gale thrashed in a brief apoplectic fit, quivered, turned, and raced passed her in a hurried frenzy.

Cesha started with horror and fear, first at what she had done, and then at the wild Flood forms that were squeaking in fright and pain as the ice crushed them, and the path they were just standing on. She stared wildly around her.

The only escape was the way they were going. She pelted towards it, dashing randomly and haphazardly though the labyrinthine maze; she seemed to be pursued more and more fiercely by "Meep"'s, ice, and big rocks.

Suddenly, she turned a corner and there was a light with a human-shaped silhouette in its middle.

Daylight.

As Cesha ran darting, dashing and panting down the Mine she suddenly felt the whole bulk of the Pole move very, very slightly beneath her. There was a rumble, a roar, and a massive amount of movement behind her. She ran in a frenzy of fear. The cave began to come in, and she suddenly felt the force of the word 'cave-in' in a way which had never been apparent to her before. It had always just been a word to her, but now she was aware that caving in is a strange and sickening thing for a cave to do. It was doing it with her in it. The ground slid, she slipped, she fell, she stood, she slipped again and ran.

Big rocks of ice pranced on her and behind her, and these were very big, and very likely to kill you if they fell on you. Her eyes danced with them, her feet danced with the dancing ground. She ran as if running was a sickness.

And suddenly she tripped again and was hurled forward by her considerable momentum and weight.

But just after she breached the sunlight, and just before she could freefall too much and hit the ground astoundingly hard one of her arms was gripped by a pair of distinctly human hands, and she was left hanging off the edge of a cliff, with her legs dangling in the air.

She did what you would normally do in such a precarious situation, and caught her breath and began to cough hard.

Once the fit ceased, she looked up and found she was looking at Gale's rather unhappy features. His face was pumping with blood – her weight pressured him to a very hard limit.

"Gale? Phew, thanks."

"Hnnngh…!"

"Oh, right."

She pulled herself up without much of his help required, and turned round to view the very, very, very long drop she was _very_ close to dropping. A big flat plain of bright white.

"… Don't…" Gale wheezed. "… Press… a button… Ever again…"

"You'll have to push me off if you want that!"

"… Don't tempt me…"

She looked round for an escape from the ledge that outcropped from a big ice wall that was barely big enough for the two of them. The only two things worth looking at was above them, where about ten units up, was the top of the wall. And the second thing was on the horizon, a long way away from them.

It looked like a big black knife jutting out of the ground. Cesha asked Gale about it, and after a good bit of looking, he told her it had to be a crashed human vessel. Military kind. One of them big cruisers, most like.

After that he went and sat down against the caved-in entrance and hugged himself.

"Come on then," she said. "Let's find a way off this."

"Be my guest."

She looked for an escape again. "I can't find a way." she said.

"Big surprise, that."

"So what do we do?"

"Nothing. It's over."

"But…! There has to be a way!"

"Wake me when you find it." He closed his eyes.

She lost a little bit of her initial friendliness and raised her voice. "We can't just give up!" she said. "Maybe we could climb…"

"Go ahead."

She tried, she landed hard next to him two minutes later. He was asleep.

"Hey!" she said. "Hey!"

"Sod off."

"Who put sand in your vagina, Gale?"

"There is NO sand in my vagina! I've had enough of this ordeal, Split-lip! I'm going to sleep."

"Oh I don't think so! You're helping me off this ledge. Now."

"I was so close," he mumbled. "I should've known better than to go on that ship. I could've gone home but no, YOU had to go and invade Earth! And not only did you crash us into a wasteland, but now you've TRAPPED me in it! You think I'm going to help you, after what you've done to me? Let me sleep, or push me off the edge. I don't care anymore."

"Don't care? Don't care about starving? Dying?"

"You're giving me a headache."

"YOU'RE a headache!"

"Kill me then!" He opened up his arms to surrender. "Why don't you just gut me and get it over with? Sure would mean a lot to me."

Cesha looked conflicted if but for a moment. After a moment she told him. "I don't kill those who aren't trying to kill back."

"Great. An elite with morals. Look where it's gotten us!"

A few hours ago (that's his rough estimation, which was wrong), he was in great disbelief about what she was saying, and he was rather nervous at being alone with a great tall elite- now he was just tired. He'd had enough.

She didn't understand. How could he act like this, at this moment? This situation?

"If we don't find a way," she said. "we'll… we'll freeze!"

"Thrilling."

She tore away from him with a flail of her right arm, and stalked to the edge to look out over the expanse. The nerve of him! After all the hospitality she had shown…

The wind cut through them both. Eventually it weakened Cesha's knees so hard she had to kneel. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop shivering.

Only thirty units passed, and already the wind was becoming unbearable. She twisted around to see the human sitting there, but she could tell he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep yet.

After some consideration, she got up and walked over to him, then sat down next to him. He eyed her suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"Two bodies are warmer than one," she said, clutching her shoulders.

"Have you been watching penguins down there?"

"What's a penguin?"

"Never mind."

He thought over the idea. "Back-to-back, then?" he said.

"Sure."

They pressed their backs together, and immediately felt the results. Though they looked grumpily over their shoulders at one another, they definitely did not want to move from this.

The wind didn't let up.

No help came. No sound of ships, people, anything.

She looked up at the sky. It was beginning to darken. After a while she held her breath at what she saw.

"What?" asked Gale, feeling her large back on his tighten. He looked out and matched her gaze. "Oh…"

"What _is_ that?" she asked.

"Think they're called 'Aurora Australis' or something."

Her mind froze, then slowly released into hitherto unexperienced beauty of the horizon as she stared at the far ethereal dancing lights in the sky. The pale green waves swished about like water, and even distracted the both of them from the blistering wind.

"Could you fly through them?" Cesha asked.

"Don't see why not. Never had the time to do so before. They'll probably just disappear or something…"

"Must you be so negative, Gale?"

"I'm not negative."

The lights did not make the night peaceful, but at least it brought with them some distant closure.


	7. Chapter 7: The Birds Tale

**The Birds Tale**

 **1**

"Ceshaaaa!" called Zun. "You alive down there!? Ceshaaaa…!"

Her voice rebounded off the depths of the crater and answered her. She balled her fists, but whether this was in anger or worry, it was unclear.

"They're dead," said Ogato in his best effort to sound reassuring. Although Eaden, Zun, and the Captain were gathered around the lip of the crater which had replaced Robert's house, Ogato found slumping behind them on the snow more fitting.

"Don't you say that," snapped Zun, shaking her head. "In fact, don't say anything! Cesha!"

It was colder than a New England audience, and they had been standing around the crater in the open because Zun insisted they call out names which – everyone silently admitted – was a wasted effort. The two humans present thought after the ten minute mark, it was probably best that they move on. But Zun wasn't going to budge.

Eaden suggested they should just leave her.

Initially, the Captain thought the idea sounded decent.

But then he remembered how he had been pinned into that hot tub, and that little standoff which he had literally no control of – although he found that hard to admit.

Thinking better – a rare event – he declined, and instead tapped feather-lightly on the Kig-Yar's shoulder, and started to try and 'reason' out a solution other than to stand in this cold that made his gonads stick to his thighs.

"Uh hey, er, Zun?" asked the Captain, quietly.

"Hands off me, filth!" was her charismatic reply, slapping his limb away.

"Look, I'd love nothing more than to stand out here yelling names all day, but I do enough of that in bed. Let's move."

"My friend's down there!" she yelled. The thought of Cesha coming to harm was unbearable, impossible, and something had to be done. "We're staying until… until she responds."

"Rather freeze to death…" mumbled the Captain. Then realised that this conversation's point was to avoid that outcome and instead he tried to sound sympathetic and say, "Look, I know how you feel."

"You do?" asked Eaden from her position behind him. Sounding genuinely intrigued, and disbelieved.

"Eaden…!"

"Oh, right, er, I'll just stand over there then, being cold." She went and sat down on a particularly cold patch of snow.

Zun hadn't even turned to face him. "I know how you feel," he repeated, thinking she didn't hear him.

"I heard you," she said.

"Oh."

"Leave me alone, Imp. If you know what's good for you."

"I know what's good for me, and us, and standing here is as good for us as chocolate is for dogs."

"I'd like for you to leave."

"Listen," He jabbed his finger at her. "You think you got problems? Gale's my friend too! And if you hadn't noticed, he went down with Cesha as well. I'm worried sick, but do you see me calling out his name? No. Cause I know he wouldn't want me – _us_ – to die up here."

"…"

"Well he _may_ …" he trailed, thinking that the last few sentences might be a bit of a stretch. "Look," he added. "You screaming like a dying parrot isn't doing us any favours."

"What," snarled Zun. "Did you just call me?"

"Uh…"

She then turned back to the crater, grumbling over her shoulder. "Leave," she repeated.

"What?"

"Just _go_!"

"And what, leave you here? Now that's pretty silly."

"Silly? What do you care? I'm your enemy! You're _my_ enemy! Me and Ogato're gonna wait here for Cesha to come out. Right Ogato?"

All attention suddenly focused onto the hunter, which was now lying on its back with its arms clasped around its chest. "Oh look, attention. How wonderful it feels," said Ogato. "You don't have to pretend to care for my opinion."

"Right Ogato?" repeated Zun. " _Right?"_

Ogato looked from her, to Eaden, to the Captain, then back to her. Then shrugged.

"… Right?" Zun said sheepishly.

Ogato looked back at the humans. Then the snow. Saying nothing.

"Great!" yelled Zun. "Even YOU Ogato? What about Cesh'?"

"Death is inevitable," droned Ogato.

"What an inspiration!" said Eaden.

Zun hesitated, darting her eyes between them and the crater. She picked lightly at the sore on her beak as she pushed the thought of Cesha emerging from the crater further away. Would she want her to freeze up here? Of course not. Would she want them to wait for her return, if she was alive? The more she thought about it, the more doubtful she became.

She did have that human with her… not that that mattered anyhow – these humans seemed pretty stupid. And there Imp was the worst…

Where had this sore come from anyway? She stopped picking it and faced the group. "Fine," she said. "Should we… I don't know, follow the road?"

They all got up, dusted the snow from themselves, and trekked down Roberts Road and into the haze of snow that obscured any sort of vision. When they walked a small distance, Zun stopped and looked back at the crater, frowned, and whispered a farewell to Cesha. She reassured herself she would be fine.

The Captain noticed her lagging behind, and came up to comfort her, just like they do in the movies.

He reached for her shoulder, and once more it was slapped away.

"Get away from me, nitwit." she said, and all her doubt was replaced with fury.

 **2**

As the long hours went by, the four of them faced the increasing inevitability of being alone in a godless, uninhabitable, hostile, and most meaningless place in the universe.

Still, you've got to lighten up haven't you?

"I mean, what're the odds of all this happening in less than seventy two hours! I could've made love to two different women in that time."

"The only thing you've made love to is your bathroom window," said the accented German woman to her superior-ranking officer.

"Would you rather I tell a story to pass the time?"

"I'd rather listen to an album by Olivia Newton-John."

"I'm cold," said Ogato.

"Same," agreed Zun.

"Let's get a fire going then." The Captain stopped and turned to them. "Anyone got matches?"

"Here." Eaden brandished a very large pack of cigars from her pocket along with a matchbox.

"Hey," said the Captain. "Why do you have matches?"

"How am I supposed to smoke?"

He took the matches. "Right," he said. "Now we can warm up."

"What're we gonna burn?" asked Zun.

He looked very confused. "What?"

"You idiot. How are we supposed to start a fire with nothing but snow?"

"Ah. No worries. Eaden's hair will do."

" _My_ hair? No. No way. My hair is my life! How am I supposed to look good?"

"Try putting your helmet back on," suggested Ogato. Eaden looked at the Mgalekgolo gravely.

"C'mon Eaden," The Captain tried his best to sound genuine. "Please?"

She relented. "Fine. But I'll have to even it out…"

He gave her his knife. She got a lock of her blonde hair to drape over her shoulder, held it in one hand and the knife in the other. She pressed the blade down lightly, squirmed, got over it, and cut.

She handed him exactly one strand of hair. "What?" she said, when she noticed them all staring at her. "Fine…"

After cutting from both sides of her head, they dug away a spot of snow and huddled around it while the Captain struck the match. But when he lit the hair, it was no surprise it lasted little more than two seconds.

"Need more hair, Eaden."

"Put your own in, Cap."

He turned to his left, towards Zun. He wondered…

Zun asked him 'what?', then realised what he was thinking and was hell-bent on not doing it.

A few moments more in the cold changed her mind.

Minutes later, the four of them were sat shoulder-to-shoulder around a very tiny fire. When it began to dwindle, Zun plucked another feather off of her arm and chucked it in (The weak fire had bits of hair, cloth, and a whole bunch of feathers that smelled worse than a public male bathroom) "You'll pay for this," she mumbled in the Captains direction as she inspected her arm where very pretty feathers _used_ to conceal her not so pretty underskin.

"If it's any consolation," he said. "You have very nice… feathers?"

"Your complement is unwanted."

"Why do you hate me?"

"Why is water wet?"

"Has to be more to it than that."

"Not in the mood for sharing life stories, _Imp_. Go die in a ditch."

"Hey that's a good idea," he said. Ogato and Eaden gave him there attention, which in their current situation was all they could do.

"Don't see any ditches…" said Eaden.

"We can share our stories!"

"Why?" asked Eaden. "I don't see the point."

"There's a very big point and here it is – seeing as how it took us this long to make a fire, I say we have a few days before our deaths. Maybe not even that. But the point is that some 'clarity' has binded us all together, and we can change our fate if we had a little… _insight_ , to each other's lives. If not, it will – at the very least – amuse us."

"Look," said Zun. "what good will telling each other's stories do? We either die in this place, or we escape and never see each other again, yes?"

"And then die someplace else," said Ogato.

"So why bore each other with stories?" asked Zun Tak.

"You're right for once." said Eaden to the Captain. "Maybe knowing each other better will increase our odds. This one time I went camping with this girl, Jess – real bitch she was – and on the first night we set up our tent by a lake, and the next morning our entire troupe had gone!"

"Woah," said the Captain. "What happened?"

"I eventually found the troupe the next day."

"And Jess?"

"What about her?"

"What happened to her? She find her way back too?"

She shook her head. "No. See my point?"

"Er, kinda?"

"But what's to keep us from lying?" asked Zun.

"Nothing," The Captain grinned, but he was still wearing his helmet so no one saw it. "That's the beauty of it."

Zun thought about acquiring some valuable information about humans and Imps from this 'Captain'. Would hearing his story be a way of revealing a weakness? Or how Imps – or even there _Demons_ – are created? She smiled at the thought of an Imp so stupid.

"So who votes we should do this?" said Eaden.

"Are we a democracy now?" asked the Captain.

"We better be," replied Eaden. "We need some means of making a decision."

"I thought I was the only officer here," he said. "Aren't I the leader?"

"Piss on that," replied Zun in a pleasant tone.

"So we vote." said Eaden. "All or nothing. We each share our story or no one does. We will abide by the majorities will."

The Captain thought the way she said that was quite ominous. But he said, "Agreed," because he was curious about what these aliens had to offer him. "Those in favour? I am."

"Same," said Eaden.

"I… No," said Zun.

The Captain turned to Ogato. "Buddy?"

Ogato shrugged.

"Looks like we have it," said the Captain. "Two yes's, a no, and a don't know. Alright. Zun, you start."

"Hey? No! _You_ start."

Eaden looked up from where she had been bundling cigars in her hands. She held them together and presented them to the others. "Each of these cigars are different lengths," she said. "Why don't we all pick one and go in the order from shortest to longest?"

The Captain thought of a totally inappropriate joke but didn't voice it.

"That seems rather childish," said Zun.

"I'm a very childish person," responded Eaden with a satirical smile. "I'll take the one no one picks."

She held out the cigars, hiding the ends so no one could see them. Zun took one and hid it behind her arm. It seemed remarkably small, but maybe, she reasoned, if she didn't have to go first events would intercede before she had to tell her story. Or the war could find its way here. Or the Prophet could die. Or they could freeze before her turn.

 _I'm going to be first, aren't I?_ thought the Kig-Yar.

"Whose first?" asked the Captain.

They all measured against each other. In the brief silence, the wind picked up and dropped away, making the fire stir.

"It's me," said Zun. Her expression showed submerged pain which you'd only see on the faces of the sick and dying.

"All right," said the Captain. "Start."

"Now?" she asked.

"Yes now," he replied, looking up at the dusky sky. "Sun'll be gone in an hour or two. You got time. Why don't you hurry up and get started?"

"Why don't you just shut the f-"

"Hey c'mon," interrupted Eaden, trying to sit comfortably on the featureless, snowy ground.

"Fine. Er… Where do I begin?"

She lingered that question as she gathered her thoughts and warmed her hands by the fire that smelt of burning Zun. She noticed that only Ogato seemed less expectant of the listeners, despite him knowing as much about her as she did him. She wouldn't mind hearing Ogato's tale, but judging by the 'vote' with the 'cigars' she'd have to wait a while.

"I guess it all started back at home. If you can call a bunch of floating rocks _home_ …"

 **3**

"Get Zun down here. Tell her I have some _big_ news," said Dox Tak into his communicator.

So began Zun's tale. Later, when the Captain dictated writing down as much as he could remember, he thought of it as a seamless whole, minus the pauses and redundancies that failed alien speech as much as it did to a humans own.

Dox Tak had been a young father, born, raised, and only recently consecrated as a zealot on the T'vaoan base that orbited a particularly bland piece of space, when he was given his first off world assignment: bring all his allies and assault the heretical cruiser that would be flying by in a matter of units.

In another time, Dox Tak certainly would have pursued his dream of becoming the greatest chef of the covenant. Tall, generous proportions, disciplined, light brown feathers receding from noble eyes filled with sharpness that came from many years of war, Dox Tak was a Shipmaster and second-in-command of the base, as well as a veteran in dealing with the two toughest things a Kig-Yar had to deal with in a life:

Money.

And women.

To Zun as a girl, she saw her father Dox as a somewhat perfect figure of an Alpha Male when glimpsed during his visits to other clan leaders, or on the would-be chef's rare visits to speak with the government leaders. Even at a young age, Zun knew that acting in any way opposing to the matriarchal rule of her species was bound to be followed up by years of hate. Or worse, punishment. Death wasn't a far stretch.

But he Dox told her of how he had met her mother: Miq.

It was the antithesis of all she had learned as a youngling, and it was a true eye-opener even though Zun is female. The females _always_ approach the males. The other way around? Heresy! But that was how Dox had first interacted with Miq – approaching _her_ , she admired his youth, and his courage, she told her once, but Zun thought that might've been a cover up.

"The look on her face brought me more joy then seeing a thousand Unngoy's changing a plasma-bulb," Dox laughed when Zun asked what he had first done with Miq. "She was with all her other government girlfriends – bunch of tall females – and with them was a group of chumps compromising themselves for a bit of sex."

" 'Compromising' themselves, dad?"

"They had a sum running through their heads: I want sex, plus, these women have the sex I want, plus, give myself over to them, equals sex. Chumps. See?"

"What'd you do then?"

"She saw me looking on, and she stared at me expectantly. You see its rule of law that you bow to someone of your mothers stature, and that got her attention because I didn't. It was all the window I needed. I walked over and accomplished what seven chumps couldn't."

"Which was?"

Zun gaped at her father's answer. He had said it so fluently, so confidently – a quick and simple answer that got a reaction that Dox wasn't surprised to see.

"Wha-?" she stuttered. "B-? How did she-? Why did you…?"

"That's why, Zun!" He pointed at her explosive features. "That's the same face she pulled! Her friends insisted that I be punished, but your mother stopped them, and before the week was out, _she_ contacted _me_."

He had invited her in to his quarters when she visited, and she immediately began to question his remarks – this was over the dinner he had made in anticipation for her arrival. She didn't question this, and thoroughly enjoyed it.

This went on for some time. He'd point out the various flaws that were disrupting her work and appeal to the populace. (One such instance was her original name, it was something unpronounceable in the English language, and the closest thing to it were if you were to grab your throat lightly and say, 'Grrrr-th!' She had changed her name to Miq and to her ultimate surprise, her approval in the Covenant rose).

After two 'dates', Miq offered a partnership (saying _'partnership'_ with air quotes is a better alternative) with Dox. She was offering him and her a chance to start a new, powerful clan, that would overthrow anyone that would stand in their way.

Dox accepted without question.

The Tak clan today now controlled more worlds than any other, and had many influences on many more. And although Dox was labelled as Miq's 'second', he knew better, and for his mates sake, he kept it that way.

He had gotten the toughest problem done, and now it was moneys turn. He was rather nervous involving Miq and Zun – what with their tendencies to spend it all – and if he could describe them both in one word, it would be irrational.

Still, they were family, and he was not afraid to admit they all inherited flaws – because that was what made their clan so strong. So different.

"Did you call Zun down yet, Dox?" came the slightly husky voice of Miq from the opposing room.

"You deaf woman?" he called right back. He browsed through the family email terminal as he did so.

"What!"

"I said are you deaf, woman?"

" _You'll_ be deaf if you don't call in Zun right now!"

"What does that even MEAN?"

The door opened just as Dox stopped shouting back from the far end of the 'apartment'. Zun wore a bright smile. "Morning dad," she said. Then, "Morning ma!" she called.

"YOU'RE LATE!" Miq shouted back.

"What's up dad?" Zun walked over to the rooms only bench, and picked a fruit from the fruit bowl. It was called a Quazarabel, closely resembling a banana. Only purple-green with polka dots. She peeled the skin and took a bite. "What's the _big_ news?" She gestured with her hands on the word _big_ to emphasise.

Dox also emphasised the word with gestures. "The Prophets have their eyes on us. They've seen our potential, and have extended their hands to us. This gave me a _big_ idea…"

"Garbage idea," called Miq from the other room.

"… We've been craving there gaze for many units," continued Dox. He then looked to the other room. "Shut up!"

"Certainly is _big_ news," said Zun.

"The San'Shyumm made a movie a few units back – very provocative piece – it was called 'Behind the Feathers'. Went and saw it, and I realised… we're a joke of a people. And with this opportunity, I say we can hit them right _back_."

"Dad, do you know what it takes to compete with San'Shyumm and Sangheili media?"

"Yes, I do. That's why I've got a secret weapon."

She shrugged for his answer.

"My _daughter_."

"I don't know how to make movies!"

"Not the point." He put out his hand and tallied off his next steps on his fingers. "First, we send them our heir to represent our clan – that's you. Second, you get nice and cosy, make a few friends, make sure you get as much respect as you can. And thirdly…"

Miq walked in, holding a report in one hand and a brush in the other. She was grooming her greying feathers as she walked to the window to view the expanse of asteroids that was their home. "Why don't you send Zet," she said. "She's very charming. And taller."

Zun covered her face with her hand. _Again with Zet?_ she thought. "Mum, she's not even related."

"Are we?" snapped Miq. "Why can't you be more like her? What's your beef?"

"There's no 'beef' ma…"

"I mean, she's smart, pretty, and she's got such a lovely voice."

"Zet's got nothing on our little girl!" said Dox. "You have no eye for presentation!"

"I HAVE NO EYE FOR PRESENTATION?!"

"Alright alright," interrupted Zun, waving them both down. "Now what is this third thing?"

Her parents whipped around and turn their backs on each other. Dox paced the room and said, "You will become Shipmistress of one of the capital ships. _That_ , is your goal."

"S-Shipmistress?" Zun flustered at the title. Shipmistress? Ship? Mistress? "H… How am I gonna do that?"

"-Zet could do it-" mumbled Miq.

"That's your problem," added Dox. "Once you have a capital ship under your name, get outta there and return here. Any of the crew unwilling to join us will be…. _dealt with._ "

"Dealt with how?" asked Zun.

"They will be _removed…_ "

"I thought we agreed we would stop using ambiguous terms. Like, did you just tell me you would murder the crew if they didn't join us? I.E. kill them to death?"

"Well we couldn't want any…. _nuisances_ …"

"See? You just did it again!"

"Fine you made your point. The crew – the unwilling – will be… _taken out of the picture._ "

"Killed, right?" insisted Zun.

"… Y-Yes…"

"Thank you. What about support?"

"You'll be escorted by a special friend of ours. Mgalekgolo. Very friendly. Calls itself Ogato."

"Isn't he that depressed one that dropped by a while back?" asked Miq. "And I offered him that new armour, and he said he was too depressed to put it on?"

"The very same." Nox nodded. "He'll be your vanguard Zun – once you become a Shipmistress. That'll be cool wont it? Good luck!"

"I can't do that!" This was years ago, mind you, and she was trying to be realistic about all this sudden 'Shipmistress' talk, and was very nervous. "You know how many people are on one single capital ship? It's impossible!

"Well then I guess your mother was right: you never could compete with ZET!"

Zun fumed. This may have been her turning point for her nerves. She grew up shy, with so much protection you'd think she was royalty. She was now being tossed into the deep end, and later she would know this was her father's test to make her stronger. She wouldn't agree with him for a long time – stopped sending him messages and updates over how her task was going, but she was glad for it all the same.

"Fine!" said Zun. "You want a Shipmistress? You got one! I'll pack my things!"

"Already done," said Dox. "Your shuttle's in bay four…"

"Good!" she said. She walked to the door and before it closed behind her, she turned her head back and thought about what to say as parting words. She needed something, something with emphasise…

"I'll be BACK!" said Zun. And left. A

It came as a surprise to Zun that Zet was waiting outside – it would be the last time she was surprised like this, because she had crashed into an aircraft and was surviving in the South Pole on the human home world. You couldn't go further than that. Could you?

"Zun!" shrieked Zet, clapping her on the shoulder. (Zun's shoulder is as high as Zet's hip) "What a coincidence to see you here! Did I tell you I was getting _married_?"

"Yeah, this is the… third time." Zun forced a smile.

"He's just so handsome and cute and… handsome! He's filled with love for me!"

"He's filled with something, alright…" said Zun. "Look, I'd love to chat, but I have an important task to do. So…"

"Oh yeah? Can you spare a night and come to the wedding? I know most don't go very public, but I just thought 'what the hell?' huh?"

"Yeah, yeah… no, I'm sorry I-I gotta go today."

"Aww that's too bad. Well, I hope you can get me a gift anyway!"

Zun made her evil face, but quickly passed it off as a sudden cough. She left Zet and walked away. _Who does she think she is?_ thought Zun. _Her and her… perky breasts and her… long legs and…. Who could marry_ that? _If I wasn't busy saving the clan, I'd be marrying… three times a day!_

It had taken years, far too many, for Zun to get to where she had been on the day of Earths invasion. She had done things she was proud of, things she was ashamed of – to fight her way into Regrets fleet. The time it took to sway officials and commanders and leaders of almost every race possible felt like millennia.

Undermining Sangheili's, bribing Jiralhanae, overthrowing countless others, was a million dollar job that gave her two rewards. The first, was the _Day of Jubilation_ – in all its capital glory and firepower. All her life she had looked up to it and thought: _this is the one for Tak_. And when she got there? Regret delayed! And then just when she was about to have access…

The whole system broke down!

And before she could say _Watch out for those humans!_ the capital ship of her dreams blew up. All thanks to 'Cap' and his gang of pinheads.

And now none of her new friends knew she was stuck freezing her ass off on an alien planet.

What a waste.

 **4**

The Captain had little idea if what Zun had told them was the truth, or was simply lies. Whatever the case, he found himself rather intrigued for the wrong reasons. Or was it the right reasons? Either way he wanted to know more.

"I took my clans advice to heart: Keep your eyes sharp, and your tongue sharper. I converted _zealots_ to my cause for that ship. And now? Poof! Gone! And it's all your fault _Captain_ or whatever the hell you are under that mask!"

The Captain looked at the ground. To Zun he looked quite ashamed, but she merely past it as a trick of the moons light. "So what happened to your clan?" he asked. "After you left."

"Kept themselves busy, I'm sure." she replied. "If they saw me now… Bet Zet would be laughing like a child with a new toy if she knew I was like _this_. What a bitch! You know she doesn't even where a bra!?"

The Captain inclined his head. "That is… just shameful!" he lied. "Disgusting! I mean it's wrong, its rude…"

"Alright fine," Zun gave up. _Men,_ she thought. "Enough of me then…"

"No wait come on," he said. "Keep going!"

"You know I bet she hasn't even changed at all!" Zun sighed. "You know she stole my holo-pen in school? Never returned it, and now she's getting married? If people like her can get married, the whole universe is _screwed_!"

"And you think _you_ can get married?"

He was trying to be funny, but it came out too heartfelt. She narrowed her eyes.

"What would you know about love? Your last 'partner' was a murderer," she spat.

"What?" he snapped, looking at Eaden. "You told her?!"

"What?" she said. "… Nuh-uh! Can I sleep now?"

He looked up and saw that only a sliver of sun remained in the sky. "Butter my biscuit, we've been up for too long! 'Night everyone." And he laid down and stared at the sky.

Zun grew angry at how they had all just accepted the fact that her time to talk was over. She didn't even get to hear theirs! How is this in any way a benefit to her? Not even Ogato appointed a watch for the night, as he fell to sleep faster than the humans did.

Zun took it upon herself to watch for a few hours. And if the Captain didn't want to take watch after her, too bad!

She watched the moon rise and dominate the sky. Being sat on the ground and looking up to the rotating blackness had a way of passing the time.

 **5**

Zun woke to the sound of gunfire.

She propped herself groggily up on her elbows. To her left Ogato was crushing a bulbous, greenish blub between his hands and the ground. Behind him Eaden was on the back of another blob figure, trying to beat it into submission. To her right was the Captain, aiming his gun to a weird creature slumping on the ground, the end of his pistol sizzling with smoke.

Finally the seriousness that comes with an ambush caught in her mind, and Zun jumped up and readied her plasma rifle. However another ambusher lunged and pinned her down by her wrists. The weight crushed her, and her breath was long gone in an instant.

She tried angling her rifle, but already her throat burned and the thing on top of her was growing spindles out of its shoulder to grab and crush her. She would not scream. Couldn't, really. Her struggles were in vain.

Then the imp came into her view, and with a masculine cry, he kicked his boot heavily into the things side. She expected the thing to fly off a few feet away, but it didn't budge, and the Captain admitted later that it really hurt his foot.

So rather than attempting another heroic kick, he shot it three times in the head, and it slid off of her, lifelessly. Zun got a face full of green-red blood soaking her face and chest, and more importantly her feathers. She looked around in alarm, ready to fight off more, but Ogato and Eaden and the Captain had already done so.

"W… What's going on?" she cried.

"We're under attack," explained the Captain.

"I know that, fool, but _what's going on_?"

"Er, you fell asleep and we fought these things?"

"Why didn't you call me to HELP!"

"I did!" His reply was flat, obvious. "We all did."

"O-Oh." She huffed. "Well… You should've…. Never mind. What are these things?"

"Mr. Happy says they're called 'Flood' or something like that. A Flood of eggplants is what I say."

The big ones certainly looked nothing like eggplants. However the little ones… She looked away from them to the sun. She had slept through the night, _and_ this ambush? But she was the watch! Stupid, stupid, stupid…

"I'm out of ammo," said the Captain. "Eaden?"

"Nope," said Eaden. "Gale had the gun didn't he?"

"Where'd the sniper go?"

"No idea."

"Unless you'd rather stay and die," interrupted Ogato, brushing a bit of Flood Form off of his shoulder. "Which I don't mind, if you're at all interested – we should keep moving."

"Alright sleepy-head, get up," The Captain offered Zun a hand. She got up without it.

"I'm not a sleepy-head," she mumbled under her breath. She looked into the distance and said, "How far have we got left?"

"Miles?" said the Captain. "Ultramiles? Megamiles? I don't know."

"Not surprised. Let's go." With no equipment to pack, no reason to linger, they started trekking the same direction they trekked yesterday. However this morning, Zun stopped the Captain with a tug of his shoulder. He gave her his attention.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Uh," she said. "You got that Flood-thing off of me."

"Oh yeah?"

"And I just wanted to say th… than… I just wanted to say tha… _thank_ … _you_."

She really had to force those words out. She had never said them in her language or human.

"Bah, no worries. You owe me one though."

"Out of the question."

"Zun…"

"Urgh, fine."

"'Kay. Let's go shall we? You owe me the rest of your story as well."

"You're… interested in it?"

"No."

 **6**

"This isn't going to work," repeated Gale.

"Heard you the first ten times, Gale, try and stay positive."

"You be positive, _I'll_ be realistic."

"You comfortable back there?"

Gales arms were hooked over Cesha's shoulders, and were clasped around her neck. Her skin felt remarkably cool on his, and he wondered if she was worse off than him in this weather. "No," he replied, awkwardly. Then he mumbled, "Hope no one sees this…"

"Whose gonna see this?" She turned her head. "Are you ashamed of a little help?"

"I'm ashamed of myself for getting into this situation."

"We all make mistakes."

"This is far beyond a mistake."

"Don't be so negative…"

"Just climb the damn wall."

They came to agreement that in the morning, they would try Cesha's idea of escaping the outcropping of the cliff. This was the plan: Cesha would use her swords as improvised ice picks, and use them to climb up the rock wall with Gale getting a piggy back from her. His first complaint was that the ice would melt as soon as the swords touched, but Cesha said he was wrong and it turned out he was. Perhaps it was the weather cooling her swords, or maybe she had a secret setting hidden on the handles of the swords. Whatever, they had started ascending.

Hundreds of pieces of snow shot into Gales face like bullets. The outcrop they spent the night on was already a long way away, and his heart sank at the view. He swallowed a lump in his throat and kept his eyes firmly trained on the swords. But when they sank into the wall, cracks would appear around it – this worried him. He found closing his eyes was the best course of action, if he couldn't see the danger, it couldn't get to him.

Turns out Cesha had the same train of thought. When he looked and saw her elegance lacking, he peeked around her head to see her eyes firmly clasped shut as well.

Odd. He closed his eyes too.

Without incident Cesha climbed and eventually reached the edge. "You can get off now," Cesha said. Gale clambered off of her shoulders and gripped the ledge firmly in both hands. Before he hefted himself up, he looked at the Sangheilian.

"You can open your eyes, Cesh'."

"Oh. Right. Uh oh."

"What?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but is that another, taller, ledge in front of us?"

"Oh for f- Wait, what's that?"

He pointed up towards the left of the next edge. Who would've thought that four figures – of varying sizes – were passing by in the near distance.

"That's them!" Cesha said. Then yelled: "Hey! Over here! Hellooooooooo?!"

It took the combined might of Gale's yelling (which Cesha thought was unusually loud for his size) and Cesha's shouts for them to get their attention. The four figures gathered as close as they could to the edge, and they heard one of them call out:

"Is that you, Cesha?"

"Yep!" the Sangheili replied. "Zun?"

"Thank goodness you're all right!"

"I'm fine too!" yelled Gale. "Can you help us?"

"Don't worry!" It was the Captain now. "I have a plan!"

"Oh bollocks." Gale sighed.

It took one hour, but the plan was set into action. On the ledge, Ogato held onto the Captains ankle. The Captain, dangling, held onto Eaden's feet. Eaden held Zun and they were slowly lowering themselves down to Cesha's outstretched hands.

"Lower!" ordered Zun.

"Lower!" ordered Eaden.

"Lower!" ordered the Captain.

"Story of my life," replied Ogato. He lowered them.

"Grab my hand, Cesha!" called Zun.

"Duh!" mocked Cesha. Eventually their fingers interlocked. Cesha looked down. "All ready, Gale?"

Gale clung to her thick leg firmly. He gave her a nod. "Ready!" she called up.

"Pull, man!" The Captain said to Ogato. Ogato groaned and hoisted him up. "You all really are as fat as you look," said the Mgalekgolo.

They ignored him. Once Eaden was pulled up, then Zun, then Cesha, they all helped Gale up and all took a good minutes rest.

"That was an incredible amount of trust," Gale realised. "I'm surprised you all did that. No wonder that took an hour."

"Well," said the Captain, walking to the edge and looking into the distance. "At least it all worked out in the end!"

A chunk of the cliff they were all standing on cracked, whined, then crumbled beneath them. They tumbled, and were soon consumed by an avalanche of snow.

But at least they fell together this time.


End file.
